


your enemy whispers, so you have to scream

by playthetyrants



Series: i'm searching for a light to take me home and guide me out [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Ben Solo Lives Matter, F/M, Nightmares/Night Terrors, a vague interpretation of the Force, also Luke and Leia are best friends, also pregnancy duh, i promise you they love each other, little bit of violence and gore but nothing crazy, lots of yelling but what do you expect from Han and Leia, so...yeah, this is post ROTJ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:34:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21776095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/playthetyrants/pseuds/playthetyrants
Summary: “What? You just what?” Leia presses her lips together for a brief moment before she drops his hand and walks right past him, their shoulders bumping rather harshly before she makes a beeline for the bed, stopping and beginning to pace anxiously in front of it.She hears Han come in a couple seconds later, an audible sigh escaping his lips.“Oh God, you’re pacing now?” Leia rolls her eyes at that, reaching up and rubbing her palms against her eyes while listening to her husband step forward. “Hey, take a deep breath and calm d-”Leia nearly falls as she flinches then, jumping away from Han’s touch like she’d been electrocuted. Her calves hit the side of the bed and she manages to stop herself from losing balance, glancing up to meet Han’s confused face and outstretched hands frozen in the air between them, where her waist had been.She sighs again, closing her eyes for a brief moment before deciding to sit down, bouncing slightly as the mattress moves beneath her.“Han, I’m pregnant.”(han and leia are going to be parents, and the universe is already after their son.)
Relationships: Leia Organa/Han Solo
Series: i'm searching for a light to take me home and guide me out [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1812613
Comments: 17
Kudos: 45





	your enemy whispers, so you have to scream

**Author's Note:**

> yeah i jumped fandoms again. leave me alone. 
> 
> that being said, I've been working on this since October and it feels SO GOOD to finally have finished it! this was definitely a new endeavor and i feel that i actually did a pretty decent job. it was crucial to me that i finish this before TROS came out (in case of any ben solo revelations), and with a little less than a week to spare until it starts releasing worldwide i barely made it. we're not surprised. 
> 
> this is obviously FICTION; i do not own these characters and this is just my own interpretation. i wanted to look more into the origins of ben as a whole, but what came out of this was more of an exploration of han and leia. i'm definitely not complaining, and i still feel like i set out what i wanted to do, just in a different way? in any case, i'm very happy with how this turned out. 
> 
> there's nothing particularly triggering about this; it's not like other things i've written, but PLEASE make sure to check tags beforehand! 
> 
> title comes from lyrics to "First Burn" from the Hamilton mixtape. it has nothing to do with the story, i just really liked the words.

When Leia was growing up, she had herself convinced by the age of 5 that she was definitely never, ever going to get married. 

It wasn’t exactly an odd thing; most children either love the idea of marriage or despise it, and Leia was very vocal about which side she was on. She didn’t have any reason to hate it; her parents loved each other and were the picture perfect image of what a happy couple should be. Not that she paid much attention; to her, there were more important things out there than finding someone to marry. 

It’s not that she disliked people, or the idea of being with someone. Despite being of royalty Leia wasn’t lacking in that department; she had a way of swooning just about anyone into bed with her, both men and women alike. Maybe it WAS the fact that she was a princess, but she couldn’t find it in her to care. Whoever was willing, she took in. 

She was almost 20 when she met Han, a long haired mess of a man disguised in a Stormtrooper suit. She couldn’t stand him; frankly, she wouldn’t have been upset by his untimely demise on the Death Star but fate had other plans. 

She was young then; obviously at the time she didn’t think of herself as anything but mature but the truth was, she was still a kid. Han was older, even if he didn’t act like it but she knew those years he had on her had to mean something in the long run.

She tried to push everything deep down at first; ignored the way her cheeks burned when he was around, tried to act nonchalant every time their hands touched, kept her gaze on anything but his face each time they spoke. He had a crease between his eyes that furrowed when he was upset about something; that was her go-to spot to stare at. 

He didn’t act upon anything at first; to be honest, the two of them had no business acting upon anything with the Empire at their throats constantly. Leia remembers most of what happened in those four years but it all seems to blur together; a mess of blasters and Stormtroopers and narrow escapes and fights for your life. If she had a therapist, they’d probably blame her shitty memory on the abundance of trauma in her life. 

Leia hates the word; sounds gross rolling off her tongue and tastes even worse. When the Empire finally fell she’d heard it constantly on the base; “this was enough trauma for a lifetime”, or “don’t be afraid to confront your trauma head-on”. Leia’s trauma protocol was to shove it all deep down within herself and hope to whatever deity was out there that it would never come back to surface again, and suddenly everyone wanted to talk about it, lay it out on the table for the world to see. 

Everyone but Han. 

She found solace in him; not just because they were together by that point, but because he was the only other goddamn person in her life that didn’t want to talk about the repercussions of the Empire. Luke wasn’t vocal but he wasn’t exactly around much, either; distance was his friend at that point, and Leia didn’t blame him for wanting to be alone. 

So when she’d turn in for the night, filled to the brim and practically spilling over with all of the anger and hurt and rage and sadness she’d been keeping inside all day, Han was there as a way to escape it all. It wasn’t the best method, and Leia knew that, but there wasn’t much she could do to argue with Han when he was already halfway undressed and in bed before she could even get the door shut properly. 

It was definitely nothing more than a “friends with benefits but also kind of dating” sort of thing at first; Han was good with his mouth and that was that; not really a crime in Leia’s book. As much as she hates to even admit it, she does suppose it was the trauma of their lives that ultimately did end up bringing them together for good; it’s hard not to fall in love with someone who you’ve narrowly escaped death with for multiple years. 

They’re in a bit of a cycle now, and it’s fine. Leia keeps herself busy working for Mon Mothma (now Chancellor Mothma) and makes sure the New Republic stays safe. Han keeps himself busy doing the same thing he’s always done; making stupid decisions and somehow surviving all of them. At the end of the day, Leia gets to come home to him and they distract each other from the shitty reality of real life for awhile with each other’s hands and lips. 

Needless to say, she’s a bit shocked when one evening she rolls over onto her back, fully intent on covering herself up with the bedsheets and falling asleep when Han goes “Hey, do you wanna get married?” 

It’s one of those moments where Leia had to pause and separate herself from her body for a moment; she’s barely had time to catch her breath and they’re both still very much unclothed, and here he is proposing. 

Han’s tone is nonchalant, like he’s asking her what her day at work was like. There’s no urgency there, no fear of her saying either yes or no. She should be insulted, but really she’s just dumbfounded. 

Leia turns slightly on her back, pulling one of the sheets up over her chest before facing her head towards him, taking in the way he’s still sitting up against the pillows, combing his fingers through his hair. He needs a haircut, she thinks idly to herself. 

Han drops his hands after a moment and turns to meet her gaze, and Leia wants to smirk at the way his cheeks are still flushed a dark pink color. He scans her face up and down for a moment, hazel eyes that feel like they see right through her. 

Fuck. 

Leia furrows her brow slightly, never taking her eyes off his face as she struggles to figure out what to say and the older man doesn’t even flinch, looks as at ease as he would be sitting in the Falcon. 

She should be upset. She should be pissed, furious, demanding what kind of audacity he has to ask her like this, like he doesn’t care in the slightest. 

She should be, but she’s not. She knows he does care, or else he wouldn’t be saying anything at all. In reality, the thing she’s most upset about is that she doesn’t get to watch him squirm with panic over the idea of having to properly propose at all. 

This is Han, and this is (as unfortunate as it is), the man she is so irresponsibly and irrevocably in love with. 

Leia sits up then, lets her blankets fall and turns to face him properly, brushing her hair behind her ears with a faint smirk on her face and says “Do you have a ring?” 

If she didn’t expect Han’s half-assed proposal tonight she certainly doesn’t expect to see him turn and reach into his jacket that’s sitting in a crumpled heap upon the floor, pulling a small box out of the pocket. Leia tries to process all of this in the span of a few seconds; the way his long fingers are fumbling with the opening, how Leia’s heart is pounding like a battering ram against her ribcage and how this entire thing is happening while they’re both completely naked. 

She sees the ring and can’t help the gasp that slips through her lips; delicate, small, dainty. There’s a shiny diamond at the top with a simple silver band holding it in place, nothing like the extravagant jewelry she’d grown up seeing in the palace. 

She loves it; she loves him. 

Fuck, does she love him. 

Of course she says yes; how could she not? That was a proposal that her teenage self would have approved of; if only she could see her now. 

They melt into the bedsheets again for round two, only this time Leia has a ring on her finger and Han’s on top. She’s feeling generous; sue her. 

When Leia goes into work the next morning she’s exhausted but smiling, alerting the attention of the Chancellor who merely glances down at the ring on her finger before back to her papers and murmurs “it’s about time.” 

Leia decides pretty quickly that she doesn’t want any sort of wedding; if they’re gonna go along with the theme of Han’s proposal, eloping would be perfect. 

She almost forgets to tell Luke, which is shitty of her. She can’t even remember to eat most days, which isn’t an excuse but the morning they’re supposed to marry she quickly gets a hold of him, sheepishly glancing at his fuzzy hologram of a body that’s currently residing at a Jedi temple somewhere across the parsec. 

“So...Han proposed,” she says quickly, thankful that she can’t tell what sort of facial expression he’s wearing. “About a week ago, and we’re getting married tonight. Like, in a couple hours.” 

Luke huffs out a loud breath, and Leia watches his hologram cross his arms over his chest. 

“Finally!” he says loudly, shaking his head. “I thought Han had gotten cold feet, turns out the idiot just forgot to tell me he did it.” 

Leia opens her mouth at that but finds that she can’t speak, spluttering over her words for a moment before frowning. “What, you knew he was gonna propose?!” 

Even though it’s blurry Leia can see the way Luke furrows his brow in confusion, tilting his head to the side. 

“Yeah, duh. He asked me for permission before we left Endor.” 

Leia must freeze up then because Luke starts asking if she’s still there after a few seconds, waving his hand in front of her face despite the fact he’s not actually there and she’s perfectly okay, just overwhelmed with a wave of emotions that makes her want to burst into tears in the very same moment. 

When she sees Han again she throws herself into his arms and buries her face deep into neck, closes her eyes and breathes in. 

_ He actually asked your brother's permission to marry you. If that's not the man that's meant to be your husband, I don't know who is. _

It’s a short and sweet little ceremony; Leia kisses Han until she can’t breathe, and when she pulls away Han is pink in the face and grinning down at her, dimples and all. She’s fully aware that there’s a handful of people there with them, including Chewie, but they might as well be locked up in their bedroom with the way Han is staring at her now. 

Who cares? She’s married, not a fucking prude. 

It’s been almost two weeks since then; feels like nothing at all, if she’s being honest. Traveling in space does that to you; Leia feels like there’s no concept of time out here anyway, plus her and Han have made it a habit of waking up whenever they please. 

Two weeks is two weeks, though; Leia is itching to get back to work despite everything. This honeymoon has been everything to her; never in her life has she seen so many beautiful things in such a small amount of time. Going back to their base feels like suicide on one hand, but on the other it’s the only sort of familiarity she has in her life right now, besides Han. She’s good with routines; she likes the stability and knowing what’s gonna happen each day. It’s how she grew up, and it’s how her mind works. 

Maybe that’s why she’s on the verge of having a full blown meltdown right now. 

She wasn’t worried the first couple of days; she’d never been one for a normal cycle, but after a week in her period still hadn’t come. Han was clueless, which was a good thing; she didn’t want to bring it up on their honeymoon, of all fucking occasions. 

But now they’re closing in on week two, and Leia wants to blame her paranoia for the whole thing but she’s feeling weird. Not sick necessarily, just...off. They’re in bed now, parked on some abandoned planet in the middle of the Galaxy and she’s wide awake, listening to her husband sleep behind her. 

He sleeps the same way, every single night. Leia can’t even imagine having that much stability in your life. 

His dreams, if he even has any, are unperturbed by negativity. He sleeps soundly and silently and some nights she’s convinced he’s dead.

_ There's not a thing out there that can kill me, Princess. Not even you, as much as you'd like me to believe. _

Leia thinks about this now, about the way he’d spoken those words earlier as he’d grinned up at her while she was sitting on his hips. She stares blankly at the wall in front of her face as she lays on her side and listens to Han sleep. 

_Wanna bet?_

She can feel his forehead pressed against the skin of her back; warm and soft and familiar. His breath is slow and peaceful, and she lets the sound take over the constant noise in her head, threatening to overwhelm her in the middle of the night. 

Han is a hurricane; that’s the best way she can explain him. He’s loud and rough and destroys most everything he touches without even realizing it. He’s full of snide remarks and harsh comments and a voice that matches the ego he carries with him at all times; a force to be reckoned with, and one that doesn’t regard rules in the slightest. 

But in the center, past the daunting exterior and amidst all the noise, there’s calm. It’s a reprieve from the chaos, buried deep down where only the lucky can reach it, the careful and the patient. That’s Han when he’s with Leia. 

His arms are around her waist tonight; they usually are, and usually Leia doesn’t mind. More often than not she finds herself edging herself closer and closer towards his chest in the middle of the night so he’ll pull her in. It makes her feel safe again, and she doesn’t mind the extra heat. 

Tonight is different. Leia feels like things are going to become different for a long time. 

Han’s hands are rough, coarse with the trials and tribulations of life thus far. Leia has never had a problem with the way he holds her, but the way his fingertips brush against her stomach tonight makes her skin crawl. 

It’s not confirmed, of course; there’s no droid medic on the Falcon to give her a blood test, and she won’t know for sure until they get back home. 

She knows, though. Deep down, she does. She wants to blame it on the Force but that would be stupid. 

_Not as stupid as claiming you have a mother's instinct,_ she thinks sourly to herself. 

Leia sighs audibly and feels Han shift behind her at the noise, hum something inaudible before tightening his grip around her waist and pulls her in closer. She wants to die when she feels his hand brush across her belly button. 

She squeezes her eyes shut and swallows down another sigh; sleep may not be an option for her tonight, but the dark circles under Han’s eyes have been there for the last two days. She feels trapped in his grip and she doesn’t like it, but she cares too much about him to move. 

Instead, she focuses on noises for awhile. Her heartbeat, for starters. She can faintly feel Han’s pulse from his wrist against her own skin, then moves onto the quiet beeping coming from some part of the Falcon, familiar and calming. There’s wind outside as well, and Leia can’t even remember what planet they’re on right now but it’s got a beach, and that’s all she really needs. 

They’d spent most of the day there; Leia knows Han hated every moment of it but he stayed out for her, threw her over his shoulders and trudged through the coarse sand to make her laugh. They ended up in the water once the sun had set, and the galaxy was painting masterpieces in the sky above them. 

This planet only has one moon, but it was huge; seemed to take up half of the horizon as Leia floated carefully in the dark water. Their clothes were abandoned on the beach, probably coated in sand but she couldn’t bring herself to care much. They hadn’t seen a soul on this side of the beach for hours, and if she was being honest Leia couldn’t focus on who was or wasn’t potentially going to see her naked while Han was inches away from her in the water, his own clothes sitting on the beach somewhere. 

Leia figured that marrying Han would eliminate some of that spark between them; not immediately, but there’d be a change all the same. No longer were they just dating, or stuck in that “it’s complicated” phase, or not dating and just fucking each other behind the scenes like they used to do before things went to shit. They’d said “I do”, and Leia had meant it. She’d never meant anything more in her entire life. 

Leia doesn’t turn her body. She keeps her head tilted up, staring up at the moon above her, basking in its cool light and listening to Han swim up behind her, fingertips ghosting along the muscles of her bare back beneath the water. She blames the cool air for the way she shivers but Han knows better, and so does she. 

It’s only been a few months since the Empire fell, and Leia feels like she’s never going to get over the way her eyes dart up every time she sees a flashing light, the way her heart stops when something unfamiliar pops up on a ship radar. The stars are tainted for her now, which is highly unfortunate considering she can never really escape him. 

Han told her once that he heard they were made up of stardust; not just her, but every single being out there, in every corner of the universe. It would make sense: all of them just filled with little bits and pieces of the galaxies they travelled through, but the stars were bright, powerful, a force to be reckoned with. 

Leia had been that once, and then the Empire happened. 

Things only seemed to make sense when she was kissing Han so that’s what she did that night in the water, and what she’d been doing since they’d left for their honeymoon two weeks ago. It was then, with Han’s hands around her waist in that cool water that she had pieced everything together in her head. All it took was her husband’s hand brushing against her stomach. 

She’s done the math close to a hundred times now, and each time she’s gotten the same answer. Leia’s brain is nothing but a jumble of numbers and calendar days that cannot drown out the pure and simple fact that she’s late. 

Not just late, but very late. As in, “how could she have not noticed this sooner” late.

She feels her heart skip a beat as a loud crack of thunder echoes outside, a flash of lightning appearing just before. There’s the usually soothing noise of rain on the roof above them, sounding somewhat unnerving against the Falcon. Leia tilts her head back slightly so her ear is closer to Han, and can hear his still soft breathing in response. His grip on her waist has shifted now, loosening slightly and she takes this moment to slip out of his grasp and grab one of his shirts off of the floor, slipping it over her head as she makes her way out of the room and into the hallway.

The rain’s getting louder, and Leia can hear the wind whip against their small ship, eerie noises that make her skin crawl.It’s cold now; she regrets not wearing more clothing to bed as she moves.

_ Just calm down, alright? You're not making anything better acting like this. _

She rubs down the goosebumps that appear on her arms, tiptoeing against the cool metal floor beneath her for a moment before she stops, sucking in a deep breath.

“You’re terrible at sneaking around,” she says quietly, and she can hear Han hum tiredly behind her.

“You’re terrible at sneaking out of bed,” he retorts, and Leia turns on her heel to face him, taking in his messy hair and lack of shirt, a pair of brown pants pulled on over his legs haphazardly. Even in the dim lighting she can see the sleep still in his eyes, barely opened and squinting down towards her at the other end of the hallway. “What’s wrong, anyway? Storm scare you?” 

Leia takes a step forward, avoiding his eyes and reaches out for his hand, taking it gently in between both sets of her fingers. She can feel the way he’s staring at her, boring holes into the top of her skull while he waits for an answer and she swallows once, running her thumb along the top of his wedding band.

“I need to talk to you,” she says slowly, hating the way the words taste on her tongue. Han is silent for a moment, letting her fidget with his hand for a moment more before she feels his finger on her chin, tilting her head up look at him. 

“Are you okay?” Leia scans his face for a moment, reading in between all of the frown lines and eye crinkles and lets out another breath, shoulders falling slightly. 

“Yeah,” she breathes out, nodding slightly. “I just…” Her voice falters, and she runs her tongue along her bottom lip nervously, racking her brain for what to say next. 

_ I'm late. Yes, THAT kind of late, Han. _

_ So, here's the thing...I know we've never talked about it, but how do you feel about kids? _

_ Luke's gonna be an uncle. Isn't that great? _

Han’s face is still stony, his brow furrowing as Leia struggles to speak, tilting his head to the side slightly. 

“What? You just what?” Leia presses her lips together for a brief moment before she drops his hand and walks right past him, their shoulders bumping rather harshly before she makes a beeline for the bed, stopping and beginning to pace anxiously in front of it. 

She hears Han come in a couple seconds later, an audible sigh escaping his lips. 

“Oh God, you’re pacing now?” Leia rolls her eyes at that, reaching up and rubbing her palms against her eyes while listening to her husband step forward. “Hey, take a deep breath and calm d-” 

Leia nearly falls as she flinches then, jumping away from Han’s touch like she’d been electrocuted. Her calves hit the side of the bed and she manages to stop herself from losing balance, glancing up to meet Han’s confused face and outstretched hands frozen in the air between them, where her waist had been. 

She sighs again, closing her eyes for a brief moment before deciding to sit down, bouncing slightly as the mattress moves beneath her.

“Han, I’m pregnant.”

Another crack of thunder. Leia resists the urge to make a face at the way the universe is picking fun at her now.

She feels like all of their air in their tiny room’s been sucked out now, her lungs struggling to keep her breathing regulated in the silence that’s taken over. She averted her eyes as soon as the words left her mouth, her mind fighting between wanting to see his face and never wanting to see again.

It feels like a century before Han speaks, his voice sounding almost foreign amidst the storm outside.

“Are you sure?”

Leia stares down at her hands in her lap. She needs to cut her fingernails. “No.”

Han is silent again for a moment before he replies “You wouldn’t have said anything if you weren’t sure.”

He’s right. Goddamn him, he’s right. 

“Yeah well, I haven’t actually, you know...gotten everything checked,” she says lamely, frowning to herself as the words come out. She can nearly see Han nodding slowly in response from the corner of her eye.. “I don’t know for certain.”

“But you think it’s true.” Leia fixates her eyes on a spot on the wall; there’s a dent in it, one that looks very similar to the size of Chewie’s fist. 

Outside the rain’s getting heavier, and Leia nervously drags her toe against the cold metal of the floor beneath her. 

“Yeah, I do.” 

It’s weird saying it out loud; it’s like the universe has ownership to her words now. She reaches a hand up and rubs absently at one of her eyes for a moment, fatigue slowly but surely beginning to creep in. 

Han is silent behind her; he’s never silent. Even when he’s not speaking, Leia feels like she can hear his thoughts and the wheels in his head turning constantly, at a speed that would rival any ship on the Resistance’s fleet. There’s nothing now. 

She gets up and crosses briskly to the window on the wall in front of her, folding her arms instinctively over her chest before coming face to face with the glass. She follows a stray droplet that journeys down a path right in front of her nose, watches it brave the wicked wind that’s billowing outside before it disappears for good, trying not to focus on the way she can feel her throat starting to tighten up. 

She wants to go home. She knows it’d be stupid to ask Han to take them back now, when she can’t even see a foot in front of her and she feels like she might vomit all over the shiny floor of the Falcon if she opens her mouth. 

_Is it nerves?_ she thinks to herself. _Or is it this child she's so fucking sure exists within her now?_

The thought alone is enough to make her suck in a deep breath, swallowing back bile before she turns on her heel to escape the room, maybe even launch herself into the storm and pray it picks her up and spits her out in an alternate universe where none of this is happening but instead her face meets Han’s chest, startling her back to reality for a moment. 

Leia blinks up quickly at him, her long eyelashes brushing against her warm cheeks as the older man holds his hands up in an automatic response, pressing themselves against her shoulders gently to stop her. 

“Hey,” he manages to splutter out, and at any other time Leia would tease him mercilessly for the way he’s stumbling over his words. All she can do now is swallow down the lump in her throat, presses her lips together and remains mute, watching a million different emotions manifest on his face. It’s like a supernova; an explosion of stars that decorates his features like an abstract painting she’d find in the halls of her childhood home. Leia thinks briefly of the Death Star’s demise all those years ago, and her heart aches for her brother for a moment. 

Han doesn’t speak for a few moments. Leia thinks it’s strangely beautiful how he doesn’t try to hide this, his natural reaction. Frankly, he’s taking it differently than she’d expected. There’s a lot less yelling. 

She breaks the silence first. “I’m fine.” Han watches her almost wearily as she lifts her arms and grabs onto his wrists gently, pulling his hands down from her shoulders. “Really, I am.” 

“You’re a bad liar,” he replies simply, and Leia rolls her eyes like she always does when he opens his mouth. 

“And we’re done with this conversation,” she snaps back quickly, turning her body and weaving her way around him and towards the bed again. “If we’re not able to go home now, then let me sleep until we are. I’ve got a headache anyway.” 

Leia peels the crumbled comforter back down before climbing onto the mattress, kicking away the pillows from Han’s side of the bed before his incredulous voice interrupts her. 

“I’m sorry, WE’RE done with this conversation?” Leia bites her tongue, sucks in a breath. There’s the yelling. 

“Yes, we are. Now leave me alone.” Leia manages to close her eyes for exactly three seconds, her head having barely settled onto her pillow before she feels Han’s hands on her hips, lifting her up with the effort it takes to breathe. She barely has time to gasp in response before she feels her stomach making contact with his shoulder as he throws her over with ease. 

“Fucker!” she manages to spit out in anger, kicking her legs wildly in some sort of feeble attempt to free herself but at the end of the day, she’s half his size anyway. 

Leia spits out her own hair from her mouth, furiously pushing it back behind her ears to try and see where he’s taking her before she feels herself being deposited onto the pilot’s seat of the cockpit, her head hitting the back of the chair with a dull thud. The door shuts behind her with a low hissing noise, and Leia swears she’s seeing red. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Han’s cheeks are pink, circling around her once before sitting down in his seat. His jaw is set, a look of pure stubbornness in his eyes and Leia wants to kill him, she really does. Her mind does an unconscious scan of the cabin around them, wondering if there’s anything within her reach that she could use to stab him. 

“You’re not giving the orders in here, Princess.” Leia narrows her eyes at her stupid nickname that never went away, gripping the edges of her seat tightly. Goddamn Chewie for being so big; she feels like a fucking child in this chair. 

“What exactly is it that you want to discuss, hm? We don’t even know that I’m pregnant yet.” Han doesn’t visibly flinch at the word like she’d expected him to. Instead he stares stoically back at her, legs spread in that aggravating way he does when he sits. 

“No, we don’t. But you wouldn’t have brought it up to me if you didn’t think you were. You would’ve GLADLY kept that giant mouth of yours and gone to a medic at the base, but no. For fuck’s sake, you flinched when I touched your stomach!” 

Leia wonders for a moment if Force choking her stupid moron of a husband is an option in this scenario or not. Where’s Luke when you need him? 

“I don’t need you telling me what I’ve done, I’m perfectly capable of remembering it myself.” Han doesn’t react, still staring at her with a look of disdain. He leans back slowly in his chair, pushing against the floor with his boots as he levels her carefully. 

“What now, Leia?” She tries not to frown at that; he only ever calls her by her name when something’s wrong. “What if you are pregnant? Then what?” 

Leia isn’t sure if she likes the way the word rolls off his tongue or not; it sounds foreign in his mouth. She keeps her face a blank slate, sitting up in her seat by hoisting herself up with the armrests. 

“Then I guess we’re having a fucking baby, Han!” She only halfway means for it to come out as a shout; feels better like that, anyway. She never feels bad when she yells at him but for some reason there’s a hot flash of guilt that temporarily reddens her face; not long enough to bring any color to her cheeks, but enough to make her stomach ache. 

Leia lets her eyes flicker down to the floor again, studying the way her toes barely reach the floor and Han’s shoes are pressed against it. She really doesn’t want to see his face; she doesn’t know what she wants his reaction to be, but seeing Han look at her like that again could send her into tears. 

Han doesn’t talk, doesn’t move for a few seconds. Leia is strangely aware of her own heartbeat now. 

“Okay.” 

Leia snaps her head up so fast she’s afraid her neck breaks. Han has his arms resting on either side of his seat, looking as relaxed as ever. 

“...okay what?” Han raises an eyebrow at her response, looking confused before he speaks again. 

“Uh...okay, we’re having a baby?” Leia blinks stupidly at him, ignoring the strand of hair that’s fallen from her ear and is brushing against her lips. Han’s eyes level her once more, as if scanning her like she’s a broken droid that needs fixing. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Leia furrows her brow at that, resting her hands on the armrests on either side of her chair. 

“You’re just...fine with that.” Han’s face stays calm and collected, shrugging his shoulders a bit. 

“Yeah,” he agrees, leaning back in his chair a bit and running his hand thoughtfully against his chin. “If you really didn’t want this baby, you would’ve just gone and gotten it taken care of without me even knowing.” 

_ Ouch. I mean, he's probably right but he doesn't have to say it. _

“I would’ve told you anyway,” she says haughtily, pulling her legs up onto the chair and hugging them to her chest. “I’m not that fucked up.” 

Han hums a bit but doesn’t respond, and Leia can feel his eyes on the side of her face. She tilts her head down a bit, staring at a spot on her knees for a moment before speaking again. “It’s half your baby too.” 

“Yeah, I’d sure hope so.” Leia rolls her eyes and groans, throwing her head back against the seat and dropping her arms. 

“God, you’re so fucking obnoxious. Maybe procreating with you isn’t the best idea, I don’t think I can handle another Han Solo.” She can hear him laugh at that, listening to him get out of his seat before crossing over to her chair. 

“Hey.” Leia doesn’t even realize he’s kneeling down in front of her until his hands make contact with her legs, large hands wrapping gently around her ankles. She lifts her head up and gives him a weary stare, tilting it to the side to listen to him speak. 

“This is all up to you, okay?” _You're damn right it is,_ she thinks sourly to herself. But Han’s face is soft, his voice calm. She curls in on herself a bit more before he continues. “You do what you think is best.” 

“That’s not fair.” The words are slipping from her mouth before he barely has a chance to finish talking, watching his face contort slightly. “Yes, I understand I have control. It’s my body. But you’re not telling me what YOU want.” She reaches out and pokes at his chest for emphasis and Han frowns a bit, sitting down on his knees. 

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” he says stoically, and Leia sighs heavily at his words. 

“Yes it does, Han. You’re my husband, you’re the father. Of course it matters.” Han looks slightly uncomfortable now, tapping his thumb anxiously against the side of one of her ankles. Leia takes this moment to study his face carefully, taking in the frown lines and worried brow and slightly pursed lips. He averts his eyes after a moment, turning his face to glance at nothing in particular, settling on a flashing light somewhere near the front of the Falcon. 

“I don’t know,” he finally murmurs after a moment, giving another half-hearted shrug. “...might be nice to have a kid running around here.” 

It’s weird; Leia has never been an emotional person. She was the kid who rarely cried, the one whose face never betrayed what she was feeling. She had perfected the art of looking fine, and in turn she conditioned herself to believe it, all the time. 

When Han lifts his head to look at her Leia can barely make out his face through the sudden tears in her eyes, swallowing down a lump in her throat while the older man sits up quickly, reaching out for her shoulders. 

“Oh God, what did I say?” The ineffable concern in his voice makes Leia choke out a watery laugh, shaking her head quickly before leaning forward and slipping her arms around his neck, hugging him close and squeezing her eyes shut. 

“Nothing, I’m okay…” She sniffles against his shirt and feels Han hesitantly wrap his arms around her in return, as if she were made of porcelain and starting to crack. She takes a moment to collect herself, opening her eyes and pulling away to glance at him once more, smiling faintly. 

“Guess we’re having a baby then, huh?” Han’s surly concerned face softens immensely at that, cracking a small smile at that and humming softly in agreement. 

“I guess you’re right, Princess.” 

They return home the next evening; the storm fades in the middle of the night and Leia sleeps soundly for the first time in weeks. The trip itself takes a while, but she doesn’t mind; Han’s got her in his lap the entire time, his long arm resting around her stomach and this time she doesn’t feel the need to flinch.

It’s the middle of the night when the Falcon lands (Leia makes a smart remark about how loud the stupid ship is and Han promises to smother her in her sleep later that evening), and the base is silent. They grab onto each other’s hands and make their way through various streets before Leia comes to a stop in front of the central building, taking Han’s hand with her other and squeezing it gently. 

“I’ll be quick, okay? In and out, get the test done and we’ll know for sure.” Han nods at that, taking a step forward towards her. 

“You sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Leia smiles a bit, tilting her head to the side. 

_ I don't want you to see the disappointment on my face if it comes back negative. _

“It’s okay, I’ll be fine. Plus, my badge is the only one that’ll get me into Mothma’s personal medical room anyway.” Han wrinkles his nose at that, like that’s something that could ever stop him but he resigns, leaning forward and kissing her forehead gently. 

“Alright, but be quick. And don’t have them make you pee on a stick or something, that’s gross.” Leia smiles and swats at his arm before letting go and turning on her heel, using her badge to get the front door open before disappearing behind it. 

The central hub of this entire base resides in one building, and Leia hasn’t really been intimidated by it until now. Most of the lights are shut off and she finds herself slowing down dramatically in fear of accidentally tripping and falling onto the cold tile floor. The office is towards the end of the hall, and she follows the dim lighting all the way to the door before pulling out her badge again to swipe for entry. 

“Lieutenant Organa!” Leia nearly screams out loud at the sound of C3PO’s voice suddenly behind her, whipping around on her heel to face the droid. 

“Fuck, what the hell are you doing here?!” Threepio’s face looks about as offended as it always does, taking a step backward. 

“We were just making our rounds before turning in for the night!” Leia groans audibly at the sound of R2D2 beeping from around the corner, looking up to see the droid come into gaze. 

“It’s the middle of the night, this should’ve been done by now.” She tries her best to sound stern but she knows it comes across as weak, plus she’s really in no position to be scolding them anyway. 

“Our apologies, Lieutenant.” Threepio tilts his golden head down to face the badge still held in her hand, then looks back up almost expectantly. “Oh dear, are you ill?”

“No,” Leia snaps instantly, shoving the badge down into her pocket. “I’m just...I needed to see something. Check on one of the droids.” 

Leia folds her hands across her chest in a poor attempt to create a defiant sort of stance and Threepio just stares at her for a moment, shuffling slightly. 

“But it’s the middle of the night.”

Leia bites down on the inside of her cheek to keep from cursing again, sucking in a sharp breath. Okay...yeah. She deserved that. 

“Look, you two really don’t have any business here. Just...let me do my thing, and I’ll let you do yours, okay?” The annoyance is loud and clear in her words and Artoo beeps loudly before starting to roll out, making a clear beeline for one of the doors. 

Threepio stumbles over a few words, as if trying to come up with something to say but Leia gives the droid her best Han look, the one her husband gets when he’s on her last nerve and is about to receive a blaster to the forehead. It seems to work; Leia watches Threepio leave with a sort of defeated air, muttering something incomprehensible to Artoo before disappearing around the corner as well. 

Leia wastes no time getting inside, listening to the doors shut behind her and letting out a small sigh of relief. The room is barely lit, the only source of light coming from various machines lining the walls. She maneuvers her way around before she finds a lightswitch and turns it on, squinting slightly as her eyes adjust. 

The medic droid she’s seeking is in the corner, turned off and awaiting use tomorrow. Leia makes her way over and fidgets with the back of its head, fingers finally making contact with a button before pressing it and stepping back, watching it come to life again. 

“Welcome to the medical facility, how can I assist- oh, Lieutenant!” Leia smiles faintly at the droid’s familiar female voice, soft and as lilty as a robot can be. “Is everything alright? Are you injured or sick?” 

“No no, I’m fine.” Leia reaches a hand out and grabs the back of a chair to her left, pulling it over before sitting down. “I just, uh...need a favor.”

“That can be arranged.” Leia smiles again, watching the slender silver droid make their way over towards her. 

“I need a...I need a pregnancy test done.” Leia watches the droid turn towards a medical table near the edge of the room, opening various drawers while speaking calmly. 

“Of course, Lieutenant.” Leia leans against the back of her chair and swallows down another sigh, reaching down and beginning to roll up the sleeve of her shirt. Her fingertips make contact with her wrist and she feels the unmistakable thudding of her pulse against them, rapid and harsh and bites down hard on her lip.

_ Relax, Leia. You're gonna be fine, no matter what the test says. _

Leia watches the droid make their way back over with a needle in hand, quickly and efficiently finding a vein in her arm before sticking it in her skin, and Leia doesn’t even flinch. Her mind seems to be buzzing, her ears ringing with the sound of blood being pumped through them and she barely notices when the being speaks again. 

“Your heart rate is alarmingly fast, are you quite alright?” Leia refrains from sighing out loud, closing her eyes briefly before scratching her head absently with her free hand. 

“Yeah, just...well, you know.” She watches the needle being removed from her arm, a vial full of blood with it. “Nervous.” 

The droid turns and crosses the room toward another machine, discarding the needle. “That’s understandable,” Leia hears in response, folding up her arm to stop the bleeding in the crease of her elbow. “It’s quite nerve wracking for a human, I would imagine.” 

Leia doesn’t respond, instead staring at a spot on the tile floor beneath her chair, running the tip of her shoe over it slowly. She feels sick; no better place to throw up than in the medical ward, she supposes. 

“Analyzing your blood sample for results, ma’am. Give me a moment.” Leia sucks in a sharp breath, lifting her head and lowering her arm, not even checking to see if the bleeding stopped. 

It takes only a few seconds but she feels like she’s aged twenty years before the droid speaks again, voice soft and calm.

“It’s positive, Lieutenant Organa.”

_ Holy fucking shit. _

She’s definitely nauseous now, putting her hands down on either side of the chair next to her to steady herself before letting out her breath all at once. Before she can even begin to think of what to say the droid is speaking again, still as collected as ever. 

“You’re approximately five weeks and three days along.” Leia immediately raises her palms to her eyes and presses harshly, only halfway attempting to blind herself. 

“Oh my God…” she breathes out slowly, her stomach churning as she does. 

_ Five weeks. There's been a baby growing inside of me for FIVE. WEEKS. _

There’s a bout of silence then that must feel awkward to the droid, who waits a few seconds before quietly talking again. 

“Forgive me, but...are you okay?” _This is so stupid,_ Leia thinks dryly to herself. _Am I really about to cry in front of a droid?_

The answer is yes. 

“Yeah, I’m fine…” Leia rubs at her eyes once more for good measure (and hoping the movement wipes away the tears she feels starting to form there) before dropping her hands back into her lap, blinking quickly. “I’m...yeah. Wow.” 

_ Are you, though? _

It’s as if the little droid can read her mind; maybe they can, who knows. There’s another moment of hesitation again. 

“Well...congratulations to both you and Captain Solo.” Another beat. “By the way, welcome back from your honeymoon.”

Leia all but runs back towards her and Han’s room, trying her hardest not to draw attention by sneaking around corners and sprinting through alleyways. When she gets into the building she picks up speed, her heart pounding furiously against her ribcage. The hallway feels endless; she doesn’t remember their room being this far away.

She’s completely lost in her thoughts when the door opens and she runs straight into Han, who very nearly knocks her over.

“Fuck, what the hell Leia?!” Leia reaches out and instinctively grabs onto his arms for support, gravity still trying to push her forward. She looks up at him and realizes she’s out of breath, unsure of it was from the running or from the news she received from the medic. 

Han is scanning her face, seeming to read her like an open book and while Leia usually hates it, she’s thankful for the way realization dawns on his face, eyes widening slightly. 

“Oh my God,” he breathes slowly, blinking. “You’re pregnant.”

Hearing it out loud, coming from her husband’s lips, is grounding. Leia feels woozy, like she might faint.

Han quickly reaches behind her and pulls the door shut, grabbing her gently by the shoulders and leading her fully inside. 

“Hey.” He speaks up again, steering her over to sit down on the edge of the bed before kneeling down in front of her, hands traveling down the sides of her arms to her hands. “Are you okay?” 

_Five weeks and three days._ The words bounce around in her head on repeat, seeming to hit her at every angle. She’s not even looking at her husband now, instead staring over his head at a spot on the wall. She’s aware of her breathing, steadily picking up and can feel her chest beginning to rise and fall at a much more rapid pace. 

“Leia? Come on, look at me.” Leia’s heart is racing a mile a minute now, uneven thuds within her body that seem to reverberate through her ribcage. She can feel Han starting to squeeze her hands, thumbs rubbing against her palms to try and snap her out of it. 

She doesn’t realize she’s crying until Han’s hands leave her own and he’s suddenly holding her face, forcing her to make eye contact by sitting up on his knees. 

“Sweetheart.” Leia blinks, feeling more tears rush down her cheeks in gentle streams before she focuses on his face, full of concern and drawn down with a frown. “What’s the matter?” 

Leia closes her eyes for a moment, holding back a choked sob. 

_ Nothing's the matter; that's what's scaring me. I thought I would be terrified of this, and really I am, but as soon as I found out, the first thing I thought of was you with a baby in your arms. It all just clicked, Han. Nothing's made this much sense in my entire life. _

Her thoughts are contained in her head but she slips her arms around Han’s neck and holds him close, sniffling and burying her face into the side of his neck. He’s silent while he hugs her back, obviously unsure of what to say. Leia finally manages to pull herself together just long enough to get out, “You’re gonna be such a good father, Han.”

***

Pregnancy doesn’t have the life-shattering effects on Leia’s life like she’d assumed it would. 

She doesn’t get sick, which is surprising in itself; Leia is tough inside and out but she’s been a puker all her life, much to her dismay and Han’s entertainment. She prepares full force for morning sickness (as does her husband to tease her) but it never comes. 

Of course, General Mothma finds out on her own; Leia doesn’t tell a soul about the baby for a couple months. It isn’t until one morning when her and Mothma are going over briefings for the day when Leia is interrupted mid-sentence by the general saying “By the way, congratulations on the pregnancy.” 

Leia forgets the ability to speak for about ten seconds, all while Mothma continues to sip on her drink and flip lazily through a file in her lap, never glancing up once. “I’m sure Han’s very excited.”

Leia knows Mothma has her own ways of finding things out, or maybe she just has a fucking pregnant woman sense, but the paranoia of people knowing grows. She’s not really sure what she’s scared about; once she starts showing there’s no escaping it. Her clothes grow baggier and thank goodness it’s cold on their planet because layers are her friend. Han doesn’t try and argue her on it; she knows she has to have her reasonings, and she does. 

Alderaan itself was fine, but the kingdom was unforgiving. Leia grew up watching women of power and prestige being thrown to the side as soon as they were knocked up, incapable of growing a human AND attending to official political and royal work. Times are different now, and she’s well aware of that but it still nags at the back of her brain, enough for her to avoid the conversation entirely. 

Luke knows; he makes an official visit to the base one day and stays the night for rest. After dinner the same evening he and Leia go out for a walk, and she’s fully prepared to drop the bomb on him when her brother speaks first. 

“So, were you and Han gonna tell me about the baby or was I just gonna get a niece or nephew without any warning?” 

She stops in her tracks and Luke keeps walking nonchalantly, taking a couple steps before turning on his heel towards her, hands in his pockets. “I mean, I guess it’s fine. I would’ve known anyway.” 

Leia tries her hardest to sputter out how exactly her brother knew she was pregnant; there’s a jolt of fear that makes her heart skip a beat that it somehow got out and spread around, but Luke hasilty assures her he figured it out through the Force.

“Look, not only am I your twin brother, but I can feel a lot of shit when it happens. I didn’t know what it was at first; I knew it wasn’t anything bad, didn’t feel like it. Plus it involved you AND Han, so I put the pieces together and just assumed.” He pauses then, looking thoughtfully at her and seeming not to notice her gawking face. “Plus, you’re kinda starting to show.” 

Leia jerks her head down immediately and stares at her dress, quickly billowing the fabric up as best she can while Luke rolls his eyes and grabs her wrists gently to stop her. 

“Relax. It’s not that much, plus everyone else is clueless. No one even glanced down at dinner.” 

Leia pulls her hands away and rubs hastily at her eyes, letting out an exhausted sigh and she can practically feel the pity rolling off of her brother in waves. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” she grumbles, eyes still covered with her fingers. “I’m gonna tell everyone, I just...I needed time.”

Luke is silent for a moment, the two of them standing in the middle of the empty street. The stars are out in full force, splattering the dark sky like diamonds. 

“Leia...you’re so much more powerful than you think.” She drops her hands at that, squinting slightly at her twin for a moment. 

“No one’s gonna think twice about you being pregnant. You’ve solidified your position here, your job, your power...everyone likes you. They respect you, you know?” He pauses for a moment, face falling slightly. “I know that’s what you’ve been thinking. And no, I can’t read your mind with the Force but I know my sister, and I know people. These ones...they aren’t gonna do that.” 

And it’s true. Leia sums up all the courage she can might and sheds her layered and baggy clothing for stuff that actually fits her. She doesn’t say a word but the evidence is there, in the form of a small baby bump. 

Han is ecstatic about it; Leia hears he jumps on every opportunity he can to tell everyone his wife is pregnant, and that makes her smile. By the end of the follwing day when Luke leaves, the entire base seems to know; she’s never received so many happy praises and congratulations in her life, which is saying a lot. 

When her brother pulls her in for a hug he holds her there for a second longer to murmur “told you so” into her ear before pulling away and smiling, turning his back to go. It’s the last time she sees her brother in awhile. 

Weeks turn into months and Leia severely underestimated how easily her body would adapt to being pregnant. If she’s being honest, she loves it; she’s never been much for attention, but Han looks at her with a new sort of light in his eyes that she just can’t seem to find in him any other time. 

They experience everything together for the first time; good and bad. 

Good: Han loves to sleep with his arms around her belly, and Leia hasn’t slept more comfortably in her life.

Bad: Their child has a hobby of kicking directly at her organs, more specifically her bladder. 

Good: Any sort of bad mood they find themselves in is instantly melted away at the end of the day, when they’re both in bed and Han’s hands are running across her skin, guessing if it’s fists or feet that are hitting his palms. 

Bad: There’s a lot that they need to talk about. They don’t. 

It happens eventually; Leia can feel it bubbling up a couple days prior, like boiling water that’s on the verge of spilling over. Han is gone for almost a week on a “mission”; otherwise known as “he got overly drunk on a neighboring planet and lost a bunch of money, then had to steal it back”.

Han isn’t a bad person; Leia would have never married him if she thought differently. His reputation isn’t much of a secret; he was known before the Empire fell and he’ll be known for many years after. Leia never minded his style of life (okay, maybe a little bit) because it was all he’d ever known. 

And then she got pregnant, and it started to make a little less sense. 

Leia had gotten as much information out of Han about his past as she could, which was close to nothing at all. He was Correlian, had shitty parents and a shitty family, and left as soon as he could. That was all there was to him. 

He comes back in the middle of the night on the sixth day, “sneaking” in with some of the loudest footsteps she’s ever heard in her life. She’s curled up in bed, watching him through the crack in their bedroom door in annoyed silence and she waits until he’s pushing open the door to say in a sour tone “Welcome home, moron.”

Han swears loudly and immediately reaches over to turn on the lightswitch, bathing Leia and the rest of the room in dim fluorescent light. “Fuck, Leia! What the hell’s wrong with you?!” 

Leia ignores him, instead pushing the comforter off of her body and standing up, narrowing her eyes slightly in his direction. 

“Couldn’t fall asleep. Are you hungry?” Han looks disheveled, blinking rapidly at her in response and Leia makes a point to wrinkle her nose as she walks past him and out the doorway. “You need a shower.” 

Han follows after her a few seconds later, seemingly delayed at her short tone but she hears his annoying loud and heavy footsteps behind her. 

“Why couldn’t you sleep? Are you feeling okay?” Leia refrains from rolling her eyes at his poor attempt to butter her up, his soft tone sounding more sleepy than anything. 

“I’m fine,” she snaps back, pulling out a plate of food she’s been picking at for the last three days; some sort of meat. “Not that you seemed to care, since you up and left for a fucking week.”

Han is silent behind her; she can practically hear the gears in his brain turning, struggling to comprehend. 

“I’m back now. Everything’s taken care of.” Leia sets the plate of food on their table rather harshly, the sound echoing throughout their tiny space. She uses her foot to pull back one of the chairs before sitting down with a dull thud, crossing her arms over her chest and setting her jaw, watching him with narrowed eyes. 

Han stands there for a few seconds and Leia finally gets a good look at him; he looks exhausted. Sallow skin, dark eye circles, his hair a haphazard mess. He hasn’t shaved since he left; the dark stubble decorating his face is unusual for him. He sits down across from her silently, averting his eyes from her face and staring at the plate instead, furrowing his brow slightly. 

Leia waits a few more seconds before she pulls her legs up onto the chair, resting her chin on her knee. “We need to talk about this, Han.” 

Immediately Han is bristling with anger, and Leia watches his hazel eyes dart upward. 

“Talk about what?” he bites back, and Leia grits her teeth, never breaking eye contact. 

“You know what.” Another beat of silence. Leia can feel the boil-over starting to begin. 

Han’s hands are on top of the table and Leia watches the way he clenches them up, large fists that intimidate many people in many different galaxies. Leia is unphased, unbothered. 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Leia tilts her head to the side at that, giving him a questioning look. 

“Oh yeah? We don’t, huh?” Her legs come down and feet hit the floor in one swift movement, leaning forward slightly in her chair. “Tell that to your fucking kid when you’re not around to take care of them.” 

Han gets up and Leia can hear his knees hit the bottom of the table; she hopes it hurts. 

“Leia, enough! Don’t do that!” She glares angrily at the stupid index finger he’s pointing at her, straightening up in her seat. 

“Why not, huh? I think now’s the perfect time to do this! This baby is coming in a few months and you haven’t changed a fucking bit!” Han stomps forward angrily and Leia stands up to meet him, feeling just as intimidating a whole foot shorter than him. 

“What do you want me to do, huh?! Just up and quit the only thing I know?!” Leia groans out loud at that, turning of her heel and running her fingers through her hair. 

“Don’t you pull that shit on me, Han! Your sob stories about your family don’t matter to me when you’ve got a perfectly good one to take care of right in front of your face!” She turns on her feet and gets in front of him to scream the last part directly at him, and Han looks like he wants to strangle her. 

He sucks in a deep breath and Leia can see a vein in his temple throbbing. Good. 

“It’s more complicated than that and you know it.” Leia scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest and resting her weight on one of her feet, leaning slightly sideways as he continues. “I owe a lot of people a lot of things. It’s not like I can just disappear.”

“You can at least try.” Leia matches his exasperated tone, hoping she can get through his thick skull without yelling. “You haven’t even been doing that.” 

Han makes a face at that, giving her a dark look before waving his hand absently towards her, brushing past her to get to the sink. “Don’t be stupid, Leia.” 

Everything that had been bubbling inside of her is overflowing now, his snide comment flushing her cheeks with heat almost instantly. She restrains herself from stomping over and knocking the stupid glass he’s gulping down water with out of his hand.

“So I’m stupid now? Stupid for wanting you around our fucking kid?” Han’s back is turned towards her and she can see the muscles in his back ripple slightly beneath his shirt, watching him slam the glass down onto the counter. 

“You knew what you were getting into when you married me, Princess!” His tone is accusatory, loud, biting. He turns back around to face her, his hands gripping the edges of the counter behind him so tightly that his knuckles are white. “You knew it and you married me anyway! And now that you’re pregnant you think you can make me do a 180 on my entire fucking life!” 

Leia clenches her jaw, sucking in a breath through her nose. “Takes two to get me pregnant, Han,” she says dangerously, and Han glares at her for a moment before pushing himself away from the sink and stalking angrily past her. 

“I’m not doing this with you,” he says shortly, making a beeline for the bathroom and Leia is right on his heels. 

“Well I’m doing it with you, asshole!” Han ignores her, trying to shut the door in her face but Leia all but throws herself inside, stopping him. “We’re just gonna get into another fight about this later on and I’m so sick of doing this shit over and over again!” 

Han gives up trying to shove her out and begins to undress instead, haughtily yanking his shirt off over his head. He’s stubbornly silent, not even facing her direction and Leia quickly grabs ahold of his wrist. “Look at me!” 

There’s silence then. Leia feels like her voice echoes through that metal bathroom like it’s a canyon, and tries not to think about the people who live near them. He turns around after a beat, letting her hold onto him while he looks down at her. 

“I’m not changing anything.” Leia opens her mouth to retort but Han is quick, his tone biting. “I’m not changing a fucking thing because you know what? Doing what I do has gotten me this far in life already. No amount of screaming at me is gonna change that.” 

Leia is silent, her cheeks still warm with anger from before and she’s shocked at how icy his voice sounds; dark and deep and to a point that she isn’t sure she’s pushed him to before. 

“This is what I do, this is what I’ve always done. You and your privileged fucking life wouldn’t understand that, Leia. I’m not meant to be trapped in the same position for the rest of my life so I can work and then die.” He pauses then, furrowing his eyebrows before spitting his last words out. “Maybe the two of you are; but I sure as hell I won’t be around to find out.” 

And just like that, the heat in her cheeks is gone; Leia feels like she’s been doused with ice water, chilling her to the bone and rendering her speechless. She drops his wrist immediately in shock, still reeling from his words and Han takes this opportunity to slam his palm against the button on the wall, closing the door in her face with a swift click. 

It hurts. Leia doesn’t want to admit it, but it really, truly does. 

She hears the shower turn on and for a few moments, all she can do is stand there and listen. There’s a faint buzzing in her ears too, like her body is going into shock trying to process everything she’d just heard. 

_ He wouldn't do that. Han wouldn't just up and leave his kid. He wouldn't up and leave me. _

Leia feels herself frowning, staring at a scuff mark on the ground from her husband’s boots. The shower keeps going; the buzzing seems to get louder. 

She feels sick. Without thinking she lifts her hands to her stomach and wraps her arms around the small bump that’s there, growing increasingly aware of the pain that’s starting to bloom in her chest. It spreads like ink, with no sense of direction but stains everything it touches.

_ He doesn't want to be here. He hates this, hates this life and hates this baby and hates you. He's dying to get out. _

Leia sucks in a deep breath at that and hears it rattle in her lungs, closing her eyes and feels tears beginning to sting in the corners of them. 

She shouldn’t be surprised. Han was never the settling down type, and it’s not like she’d fantasized about marrying and having kids with him anyway. 

_ That's a lie. You know you did. _

Before she even knows she’s doing it she’s rushing out the front door, stepping into her shoes and nearly tripping over her own feet on the way out. It’s like she can’t breathe in there, like the walls of their small living space are closing in on her. 

The hallway’s dark, but Leia’s been living in this building long enough to stumble her way down it, hands pressed against the cold metal walls until she reaches the exit. She hits the button with enough force to knock out someone and runs through it as soon as it’s opened enough for her to fit. 

This planet has several moons, most of them small but there’s one that’s closer, a beautiful lavender purple color that doesn’t give off much light but bathes the planet in a calming glow, and Leia runs down the gravel pathway until she’s directly beneath it, stopping and tilts her head up to stare at it, chest heaving with shallow breaths. 

There’s no one out here; not even any patrol droids. The notion would be concerning to her on any other evening but tonight she’s in pain. Tonight she can’t think of anything else but Han’s stinging words, the way he looked at her and the way his voice didn’t waver once. 

_ His mind's been made up. He's been planning this for weeks, I'm sure. Shows how much you really know, doesn't _ it?

The moon begins to grow blurry in her vision, more tears filling her eyes and she blinks once, letting them begin to trickle down her cheeks. 

_ You're not meant to keep anyone around, Leia. That's all there is to it. _

She finds herself wrapping her arms around her chest, a poor attempt to hold herself together before a cry escapes her lips, the first one all evening, long overdue. She squeezes her eyes shut and finally brings her head back down, letting all the sobs she’s been holding back begin to come up, slowly at first and then all at once. 

It’s pathetic; crying over a stupid man. She should be ashamed of herself. 

But she’s not. 

Her crying echoes emptily through the alleyways and bounces off of building walls, seeming to surround her in one overwhelming swoop and Leia falls to sit in the middle of the gravel, knees hitting the ground with painful force. 

Looking back on it now, she’s not sure how she didn’t hear them coming. There was a weird feeling in her chest but she had brushed it off as heartbreak, or something along those lame lines. She was so stupid, making herself as vulnerable as she did; turned back, closed eyes, broken stance. She didn’t even have a weapon on her, not even a knife or something sharp. 

She was focused on the stinging of her knees, thinking idly to herself that she needed to clean off the blood she knew was seeping from her skin when she realized something was wrong. Leia opened her eyes quickly and lifted her head, just in time to see a gloved fist make direct contact with her face and just like that; everything is dark again. 

Her hearing comes back first when she wakes up; her ears are ringing so badly that she flinches involuntarily and feels the rough material of fabric being pulled against her wrist, eyes flying open in response. The room she’s in is bright, straining her vision and she squints, trying to move her head down and is greeted with cold metal to the forehead instead. Leia pauses then, realizing she’s at a taller height than usual and lets her gaze fall downward, taking in her angled body and unmoveable legs. 

They’re tied down too, broad straps wrapped around her ankles and when she wiggles slightly, she feels a belt pressed against her abdomen, giving her little room to move. She can feel metal pressed against her back, some sort of chair she’s been tied to and suddenly the setting around her starts to make a little more sense. 

It’s not Empire that’s got her, she can tell that much; the walls are dirty, the floor a faded concrete that looks like it hasn’t been walked upon in decades. There’s occasional machines at different parts of the walls but they’re old, older than even her parents. The room is lined with a film of dust, and the absence of metal cuffs on her limbs lets her know that whoever’s got her is amateur at best. 

_Good,_ she thinks idly to herself. _Easier to take advantage of._

She’s alone, scanning her surroundings as best she can while only being able to move her head an inch or so. The metal around her head is tight, squeezing uncomfortably at her temples and she’s just about to see how much she can move her arms when the doors in front of her suddenly open out of nowhere.

Not one, not two, but six men walk through; all dressed in black cloaks, all with masks on their faces. Leia doesn’t say a word, taking in each individual one by one and trying her best to figure out who the hell they are.

Again, not with the Empire; nothing in their clothing gives that away. Their long cloaks are slightly tattered and torn, showing varying but definite signs of age. The masks all change with each person; some look more modern than others, but none are the same. Leia wouldn’t quite call it Vader-like, but whoever they are definitely isn’t good.

When she flickers her eyes down to their waists for weapons, she feels her blood run cold at the sights of tarnished silver lightsaber handles bobbing against their legs with each step they take towards her. 

_ What the fuck? _

She doesn’t even have time to process this before she realizes all six of them are in front of her now, staring at her with eyes she can’t see and faces she can’t read. As if she weren’t at a disadvantage already. 

Leia stares back at them, her face devoid of any emotion. She’ll be damned if she lets them see how badly she’s shaking on the inside. 

“What do you want, huh? Money? Power? My head in a trophy case for you to set on a shelf somewhere?” At least her voice isn’t trembling; if she gets a rise out of any of them with that she isn’t able to tell. They remain motionless in front of her, silent as can be.

Leia keeps her eyes forward but begins to shift ever so slightly in her chair, feeling the belt press even further into her stomach. Her legs are still immobile, the straps giving her absolutely no sort of leeway.

The men seem to notice; very quickly Leia sees them begin to swarm in on her, and before she can even react there’s the all too familiar feeling of a blaster being pointed into her side, tip making contact with her ribcage. 

“Don’t try it.” Leia frowns immediately at the sound of the man’s voice; low pitched and robotic and very much muffled beneath the metal of the helmet. 

“You’re not giving me much to try here.” The words slip out before she can stop them, despite the attempt to let them die in her throat. Han’s voice echoes instantly through her head. 

_ For fuck's sake, can't you keep your mouth shut for two seconds, Princess? _

Han. Leia wonders for a moment if he even knows she’s gone. 

_ He has to. He's gotta be after you right now, you can't be that far away...right? _

Fortunately her comment doesn’t seem to anger any of the soldiers surrounding her. The man with the blaster stuck into her side tilts his head slightly, and Leia can somehow feel his gaze upon her face. 

“That’s exactly what we wanted,” he replies simply, and after another beat he’s pulling the weapon away, taking a step backward. Another one of them moves forward and Leia realizes their motions remind her of soldiers, not Jedi; stiff and structured, always ready for something to jump out at them. This one is taller, and his hand rests almost dangerously on the top of his saber, gloved fingers tapping delicately on the silver top. 

“Leia Organa.” His voice has the same crackly tone but sounds deeper, and Leia feels like she’s back on the Death Star, staring down Vader in the middle of a hallway. 

“In the flesh,” she replies back smoothly, not really knowing what else she can do at the moment. The soldier-like man doesn’t respond, simply keeps his gaze fixed upon her for a moment more before turning his head behind him. 

“We just need her alive for a few more weeks. If she was further along we could take him now but...a couple more months should do.”

Leia feels her heart stop at his words, her breath catching in her throat and she jerks her head up as best she can, watching him with furrowed brows as he turns back. 

“Take him? Take who?” The soldier takes a step forward, and Leia is aware of how unsteady her voice is now, fighting back the dread that’s threatening to creep up her spine. 

_ He can't mean that. How would he know, you don't even know. _

Long fingers wrap around the handle of the saber now, and Leia can see the way his thumb hovers over the switch for a split second before it’s out of her peripheral and he’s looming in on her face. 

“Your son, your Majesty.” He answers like it’s the most casual thing in the world, common sense. Leia is frozen now; out of fear or shock, she can’t really tell. “His bloodline is nothing short of impressive. Half of Princess Leia of Alderaan, half of the famed scoundrel Han Solo, nephew of Luke Skywalker...” He pauses then, and Leia holds her breath. 

“Grandson of Darth Vader.” 

Immediately Leia is enraged, fighting angrily against her restraints to no avail. She can’t tell but she pictures a smugly satisfied face under that stupid fucking helmet. 

“Go to hell,” she growls lowly, and the soldier picks up his saber now, playing with it delicately in his hand. 

“Not yet, not without him.” Again Leia feels the uncomfortable jab of metal pressed against her stomach, flinching slightly. “He’s the future; the one growing inside of you. He’s going to lead us in the revolution.” 

She wants to throw up; she thinks she might. Leia swallows thickly and doesn’t speak, instead letting the soldier drag the saber handle up her side and towards her chest. His voice is strangely calm, as if he knows that he doesn’t need to raise it to scare her. 

There’s a collective change in energy in the room now; the men behind him are bouncing slightly back and forth on their feet, seeming restless. Leia sucks in an unsteady breath through her nose, hands clenching into sweaty fists at her side and the soldier finally pulls his saber away, his face merely a few inches from her own. 

“The last of the Skywalkers. He’s what we’ve been waiting for this whole time.” Leia grits her teeth at that, narrowing her eyes and the soldier doesn’t flinch at all, voice steady. “You don’t know what he’s capable of, the things he’s going to do.” He straightens up a bit, standing up to his full height. “You’re as good as dead already.”

Leia is spitting in his face before she can stop herself, making direct contact in the middle of his helmet. She hears the dangerous hum of sabers being pulled out from behind the soldier, ready to attack at any moment and Leia watches with silent fear as he slowly wipes his gloved fingers over the metal. 

“On second thought,” he murmurs, wiping his fingers off on the edge of his cape. “We don’t need you around that bad, do we?” 

Leia knows it’s coming a split second before it does. The tightness in her throat comes out of nowhere, like invisible fingers wrapping around her throat. She can see his hand inches in front of her nose, his hand shaking slightly at the effort it takes to do this. 

She’s seen her brother Force choke people before, and each time it seems to get worse. 

It’s the eyes first; she feels like if she doesn’t close them they’re going to pop right out of her skull so she does, squeezing her eyelids shut. Next is the chest, her lungs burning with the lack of oxygen and she feels like her body might actually collapse in on itself. Her hands are trying to reach instinctively towards her neck but to no avail; the straps keep her pinned and she can feel the fabric digging into her skin. 

Last is the throat. She can almost feel invisible fingers clamped around her neck, tightening with each passing second and squeezing whatever air she had left in her out. Her body is in panic mode, trying its best to take a deep breath but all that happens are faint noises spilling from her mouth, attempts to gasp with no results.

She opens her eyes again and can see her vision starting to go, the corners darkening first. Her head feels heavy, like it’s getting harder for her to hold it up and she feels it begin to topple forward towards her chest.

_ Don't blackout now, Leia. Stay awake, stay alive. He needs you to do that. _

She can’t hear now; her heartbeat is pounding in her ears now, furiously trying to deal with the lack of oxygen and she lets her eyes close again, feeling herself drift off. 

  
_I'm so sorry, Han. If you're out there and you can somehow hear this...I'm so fucking sorry._  
  


“Leia?!”

She hears his voice first; over her choked gasps for air and the tightness of her throat she hears him call her name, barely audible in her ears. 

She manages to open her eyes just in time to see the door in front of her being busted open, skidding across the floor in one swift motion and Chewie’s loud roar echoing through the room. 

She’s still choking, writhing in her seat and can feel the way her hands are still fighting against the straps to reach up and claw at the hands that aren’t there on her throat.. Leia’s eyes squeeze shut again, the light already gone from them anyway, before very suddenly the Force is gone from her throat, and she’s gasping once more. 

Her head feels foggy, and she can hear the awful rasp that’s now taken over her breathing. Leia keeps her eyes closed until she hears the loud noise of footsteps approaching her from across the room, a blunt thud shaking her chair slightly as knees meet the floor, finally opening them up to meet Han’s worried face. 

“Are you okay?!” Leia can only stare blankly at him, swallowing nervously and feeling her throat ache horribly in response before she jerks her head up and sees Chewie approaching their sides, speaking loudly to Han before handing him a knife. The soldiers are gone, like they’ve disappeared into thin air but she can’t even collect her thoughts long enough to dwell on that. 

“Fuck, Leia…” Leia watches Han take the knife and swiftly begin to cut her free of her bindings, the blade effortlessly cutting through the material as he furiously works at it. “It took Luke forever to track you down, even using the Force...it was like they were interfering with it, everything was blurry and he said he couldn’t see you and I swear, I thought you were dead…” 

Leia doesn’t respond, doesn’t even look at Han as he speaks; she lets him cut away at the binding on her wrists and when his hands move down and brush against her stomach she feels like she might vomit again, the soldier’s voice echoing through her head once more. 

_ He's the future; the one growing inside of you. He's going to lead us in the revolution. _

Leia sucks in a sharp breath when she feels Han’s large hands grip either side of her waist, his thumbs coming to rest on the rounded edges of her belly and when he leans down to press a kiss to it she can feel all of the pain and fear wash over her like an ice cold wave, bringing tears to her eyes before Han can even bring his head back up. 

When he does they’re already falling; Leia can barely see his face through them as she blinks quickly and feels them drip from her eyelashes, listens to the way he lets out a soft, sad hum. 

“Oh, Leia…” She begins to cry as soon as her face meets his chest, squeezing her eyes shut as he pulls her down to his level, knees meeting the cold metal floor for only a moment before she’s in his lap. 

It hurts to cry; her throat burns with the effort of each sob and she tries her hardest to focus on Han’s hand in her hair, and the other rubbing against her back but it’s useless. She wants to move her own arms to snake around his waist but they won’t seem to move from their spots on top of her stomach, protective and curled around herself. 

_ The last of the Skywalkers. He's what we've been waiting for this whole time. _

“Leia…” She can feel him sigh against the top of her head, his hands pausing their movement. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean a word I said, I was just upset and took it out on you and God, I want this baby so much.” Leia feels her face contort at his words and she feels more tears begin to fall, holding back another pitiful cry while he keeps talking. 

“I want this baby so badly, and I want you and I want us all together, all the time. I can’t be with my family if I’m never home.” Han’s lips are pressed against her temple as soon as he finishes, sighing again and stroking her hair. “I’ll do whatever you want me to, whatever I need to do. This is all I need now.” Leia feels his hand fall to rest on the top of her stomach and she can’t hold back the cry that escapes her mouth then, burying her face back into his chest.

It’s overwhelming and impossible to process but Han’s words echo through her head then, trying her hardest to breathe through the fabric of his shirt. The room is damp and cold around them, and Leia shivers uncontrollably in his grip.

_This is all I need now._ There’s the familiar press of lips to her hair and she tightens her grip on his shirt without thinking. 

_Oh, sweetheart. I don't know if you really want us anymore. Maybe you were right when you wanted to leave; this isn't something I want to drag you into._

She lets herself be carried to the Falcon because, in all honesty? She’s not entirely sure if she remembers how to walk. 

Leia feels like she does when she’s sick; achy and trembly, holding onto Han’s shirt weakly with her fingers. She tries (and fails) to ignore the way they shake, trying her best to hide it but knowing Han has eyes like a hawk when it comes to her safety. 

She’s never been so thankful to see the inside of that stupid ship than she is that day, sighing in slow relief as soon as the doors close. Han notices but doesn’t say a word, and Leia is thankful for that. 

In some sort of unspoken agreement Leia watches from Han’s arms as Chewie makes a beeline for the cockpit, headed for the pilot’s seat and she manages to give him a small smile before she’s being turned in the opposite direction, Han’s voice gentle above her head. 

“Let’s go make sure everything’s okay…” Leia shifts slightly in his grip, letting her cheek fall to rest against his arm and stays quiet as she watches the walls of the hallway turn into the walls of their little bedroom, feeling herself suffocate for a split second under all of the memories trapped inside. 

For a moment she’s young again; she’s gone back in time and it’s years in the past, the first time she realizes Han’s eyes hold entire galaxies, entire supernovas and solar systems in them. She’s got her hands pressed against the soft sheets of the mattress beneath her and her breath is stuck in her throat, seizing up her chest, all because this man with the long eyelashes and crude smile is hovering over her and he’s leaning in and she’s finally realized she never wants him to stop. 

Then she blinks, and while most everything else disappears, Han does not. 

Han doesn’t seem to notice the way she processes this all in a matter of seconds. His brow is furrowed in worry and Leia takes notes of the lines in his face she’s sure weren’t there before she was kidnapped. She feels the slow trickle of guilt begin to deep down the back of her neck, crawling down her spine and settling into the bottom of her stomach, frowning slightly as Han kneels down on the floor in front of their bed.

“Did they hurt you?” Leia can see the way it pains him to say it out loud, his jaw set angrily and the low tone of his voice. “Whoever...they are.” She shakes her head quickly in response, pulling her legs in. 

“No, I’m fine, I promise.” Han doesn’t seem to believe her raspy answer, which makes sense. Leia’s never been honest about her health; she thinks back almost fondly to the time she almost managed to hide the fact that she had the stomach flu from Han before she puked all over herself at work, but it’s not enough to change the fact that Han’s weary eyes are still boring holes into her face. 

“Did they...did they do anything to you?” His question is vague enough, and for a moment Leia ponders it. 

She thinks back to the feeling of the blaster and the saber being pressed against her ribcage, warm and rough and way too close to her unborn child for her liking. She thinks of the way the leather straps felt against her skin, and the way they all stared her down despite their faces being covered.

But mostly, she thinks about the things they said to her. About her child...about her son. 

Leia doesn’t even realize her hands have gone to her stomach until Han’s eyes flicker down to follow the movement, raising an eyebrow in concern while she struggles to keep her face clear of any emotion that might betray her. 

“No, they didn’t. Threatened me a bit but didn’t get any hits in...I spat like you taught me to.” Relief behind to bloom like a flower in Leia’s chest at the sight of a slight smile on Han’s part, halfway to a smirk and he hums in response. 

“Yeah? Good job, Princess.” Leia manages a smile in return, reaching down with her hands to grip onto his wrists. 

“I really am okay, we both are.” _Your son is okay,_ she thinks silently to herself. 

She feels Han lean forward and wrap his arms around her, holds her close and steady and for a moment she doesn’t react; her mind is running at light speed, struggling to catch back up. 

Leia finally lays her head to rest against his shoulder and slips her arms around his waist, breathes in his scent and listens to the all too familiar sounds of the Falcon around them.

She lets herself imagine it for a moment, having a son. A little human that’s half of each of them but has more of Han’s features, his dark eyes and soft hair and reckless attitude and huge heart, too big for his own good most of the time. 

It’s enough to make her throat start to close up, a lump forming there that she struggles to swallow down as Han lifts his head up and glances up at her from the floor. 

“I love you, you know that, right?” All Leia can do is nod in response, feeling more tears escape her eyes as she lifts her hand and wipes at her cheeks, sniffling softly before taking a shaky breath. 

“I know you do…” Her voice sounds foreign, scratchy and painful and Han’s fingers fly up towards her throat, fingertips gently brushing against her skin. 

“That’s probably gonna bruise...it’s alright, it’ll heal quickly if we just take care of it properly.” Leia watches him drop his hand again, sitting back down on his knees while keeping a careful eye on her. “It’s late. Do you need to eat, or take a shower, or-”

Leia shakes her head quickly, cutting him off without speaking. She can feel pure exhaustion tugging at her eyelids, all of the adrenaline that had been keeping her going before Han and Chewie had shown up fading away faster than she could keep up with.

Han reads her face like an open book, and Leia glances up to see realization appear on his features, soft and understanding. 

“You’re right, you’ve gotta be tired...” Leia stays quiet, watching the way he scoots back slightly to get better access to her shoes, untying her boots before carefully slipping them off. She feels more tears appear within her stinging eyes and manages to keep them at bay by smiling softly, watching her husband’s face tilt upwards to meet her gaze. 

“We’ll be home soon, I promise.” Han stands up and looks towards the hallway, furrowing his brow slightly as he thinks. “I can probably get us there sooner if I’m flying, just get some rest and we should-”

Leia catches him right before he gets the chance to take a step forward, squeezing tightly onto his palm with both of her small hands. Han barely has time to turn his head and look at her before she’s speaking, the effort straining her throat and voice. 

“Stay.” She sounds pathetic but honestly, at this moment, she is and she doesn’t care. She feels like she’s been put through a wringer, like she’d been crushed in that trash compactor from the Death Star all those years ago and had barely survived. “Please.”

The way Han stares at her is like he’s seeing her for the first time since she was rescued; furrowed eyebrows, a slight frown upon his lips, processing what she’s saying with a certain level of scrutiny Leia could only interpret as realization. 

Leia is glad; she isn’t much of a talker anyway when it comes to trauma, plus with the rate at which her throat was bruising up, she isn’t sure she’d be able to speak at all. 

“Yeah yeah, of course…” Han stands still for a moment longer before he decides to take a step towards her, squeezing her hands back gently in return. “Keep quiet, okay? I don’t want anything else to happen to your throat…”

Leia lets go of her husband’s hands as he sits down beside her, watching the way he bends down to take off his own boots. Strong hands and long fingers work to unlace while Leia notes the way the muscles in his back ripple against his shirt, reaching out and tracing her fingertips along the smooth fabric. He’s tense; makes sense, she supposes. She can only imagine what he’s been like the last twelve hours. 

She takes note of the way the circles beneath his eyes have appeared when he lifts his face up again, feeling a sharp pang of guilt pass through her chest. Han’s eyes avoid hers; whether on purpose or not, she doesn’t know, but it’s hard to focus with the lights dimmed and the urge to sleep beginning to cloud her brain.

Leia’s eyes are closed before she even hits the pillow, leaning into her husband’s touch and relishing in the way his arms feel around her body. Han’s face is pressed into her hair, his lips making contact with the back of her neck delicately, somehow avoiding the bruising beginning to appear there. She stays quiet, keeping her eyes shut and feels Han slip his arms lower, beneath the bottom of her stomach. 

There’s movement then; Leia can feel their baby kick against their father’s arms. She wonders if Han feels it too; if he does, he doesn’t react. 

When she opens her eyes again it’s still dark. Han’s arms are still around her but looser; she can hear his steady breathing on the pillow behind her. Leia squints her eyes at bright stars flying past her outside the window, turning her head towards the comforter and sighing softly. There’s a swift kick to her bladder then, causing her to flinch slightly in against the mattress.

_ Alright alright, relax. I'm getting up. _

Leia slips out of the bed, sucking in a breath at the cold metal pressed against her feet. She tiptoes her way quickly across the room, careful not to make too much noise before pressing the button to open the door to the bathroom, shutting it behind her. She squeezes her eyes shut once she turns the light on, groaning again at the brightness before starting to cross the room, passing the mirror as she does. 

She thinks it’s a trick of the light at first; a reflection gone wrong, a shadow in the background. Leia stops in her tracks just slightly past the sink, furrowing her brow slightly before taking a step back and looking up, seeing a hooded figure standing directly behind her.

The scream she wants to let out gets caught in her throat, burning deeply and coming out more as a strangled gasp, whipping around on her heels to find nothing there but the shower. Her heart fires rapidly against her ribcage, its tempo out of rhythm with the sudden frantic kicking from her baby; from her son.

Leia immediately steps back, trying to create more distance between her and the unseen intruder, feeling her hands make contact with the metal sink behind her. There’s a moment of silence then, one that’s deafened by the way she can feel her blood pumping furiously through her ears and the struggle to catch her breath, before she feels a sharp tug on her hair yank her head backwards. 

This time a faint scream does escape her mouth, nearly stumbling backward onto the sink before flipping around again, finding only her reflection in return. 

In the fluorescent lighting she can see the purple smattering of color on her neck now, frowning at the way they look like handprints despite being results of the Force. They look like galaxies across her pale skin, stretching down towards her collarbone in a haphazard sort of pattern. Leia reaches up to touch one, fingertip hovering shakily over her neck before she lets her eyes dart up towards the mirror again, barely having time to gasp before she hears a familiar deep voice behind her. 

“Your Majesty.”

Leia instinctively lunges forward, making a beeline for the door before she’s stopped almost instantly, feeling herself being yanked back by the hair and crying out in pain. The masked soldier from before has a hand wrapped in it, lifting her up with ease and causing her head to throb horribly. 

“HAN!” The effort of screaming hurts her throat, but she realizes with sickening horror that she can’t hear herself, that there’s no noise coming out. She takes a kick to the back of her legs and falls to her knees with a dull thud, sucking in a sharp breath of pain. 

“We’ve got her, let’s get out of here.” Leia can feel her chest beginning to ache, the effort of breathing getting harder and harder. The soldier above her still has a death grip on her long hair, starting to drag her towards the door and into the hallway. 

“HAN!” She chokes on the words again, gasping for air as the sound fails to be heard once more. In a desperate attempt to stop herself from moving she kicks her leg towards the wall, making contact with their bedroom door to try and alert her husband awake. 

Her foot meets with the metal just before the door flies open, and Leia watches from the floor as another soldier in a mask steps out, saber humming dangerously at his side. 

“Solo’s been taken care of.” Leia feels her heart sink somewhere towards the bottom of her stomach, taking in another shallow and painful breath before the man moves and she gets a glimpse of the inside. 

Han is there, sprawled across the bed with his long limbs outstretched toward the sides. She can see his head propped up slightly against a pillow, his long hair covering his eyes. Leia’s gaze falls downward slightly, feeling bile rise to her throat when she sees the deep crimson red that’s splattered against the cream sheets, blooming from the middle of her husband’s chest like a supernova. 

The scream that emits from her throat is foreign; never in her life has she heard something like it, and the fact that she’s the one making it sends her into even further hysterics. Leia tries to free herself again, throwing her body forward but she’s just yanked back again, the distance between her and the bedroom growing further, the distance between her and the bedroom growing larger and larger. 

She can feel their son throwing a fit within her; angry kicks and punches to her stomach, and the whole thing is so overwhelming that Leia almost vomits.

_ He knows it. He knows his father's gone. _

Leia closes her eyes and realizes her cheeks are wet with tears, pouring so rapidly down her face that her collar is soaked. Her whole body feels like it is, weighed down and heavy and while the pain in her scalp is bad, her chest hurts even worse. 

She feels like she’s drowning, but despite it all she never stops screaming Han’s name, her husband’s name, the father of her child’s name. 

_ HAN! WAKE UP, PLEASE! HAN! HAN! _

Leia’s eyes fly open and she’s jolted forward suddenly, a pair of hands gripping tightly onto her shoulders. 

“Leia?! Leia, wake up! WAKE UP!” 

Her head collides with Han’s chest and she gasps at the impact, inhaling a mouthful of water that’s drenching her from a showerhead above her. Her husband’s face swims into her vision, his eyes wide with concern and his chest very much unscathed and not bleeding. 

“Leia? Can you hear me?” Leia stares at him with a panicked gaze, coughing loudly, her heart still pounding dangerously fast in her chest. 

Everything’s weirdly blurry; she wants to blame the water that’s dripping from her eyelashes and soaking her to the bone but she knows there’s more to it. Han’s hands are clamped on both of her shoulders, holding her in place on what she now realizes is the shower floor. They’re both still clothed, wearing what they’d fallen asleep in earlier and Leia realizes Han is just as wet as her, reaching above her head to quickly shut off the faucet before returning his attention back to his wife. 

“Sweetheart?” Leia hears the way his voice wavers slightly, not enough to break him but enough to break her. 

It’s emotional overkill then; Leia leans forward and curls in on herself as best she can, pulling her knees up towards her stomach before wrapping her arms around her belly, burying her face into her legs and letting out a painful sob. The sheer reality of finally realizing it was all a dream is staggering, her brain struggling to process it at all. 

“Leia, Leia…” Han’s voice is barely audible in her ears, and she lets out another pathetic whimper as the older man leans forward and wraps his arms around her, pressing a gentle barrage of kisses to the side of her face. “It’s okay, you’re alright...you were just sleepwalking and had a bad dream…” 

Leia still feels nauseated, listening to his words with her face buried into his soaked shirt. She’s never slept walked before, never had night terrors and definitely never been shaken up this badly in her entire life. 

She feels like she’s never going to stop trembling, shaking like a leaf threatening to be blown away from a tree. She tries her best to focus on something else, anything else other than the way she feels she might pass out at any given moment. 

Han moves to sit on the floor outside of the shower, gently pulling her into his lap to rest with ease. They’re both still soaked and she feels him reach an arm out towards the counter behind him to grab a towel, wrapping her up in it like a child. 

Leia hangs her head sullenly, closing her eyes and listening as her husband murmurs quietly in her ear.

“Just breathe, Leia.” She can feel his large hand rubbing up and down her back in an attempt to try her off, warm her up. She shivers again and lets her legs fall slightly, knees no longer pressed against her stomach. Han runs her fingers through her damp hair, brushing it from her face. 

“There you go…” Leia leans her head forward against his neck, forehead making contact with his warm skin and she inhales his scent slowly, trying her best to steady her heart rate before her eyes fly open, looking down at Han’s hand resting on top of her stomach. 

He doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t have to. Leia watches his thumb travel up and down the fabric of her shirt, wet and clinging to her skin as it does. She thinks about the fact that Han had, for several hours, been faced with the fact that not only his wife but their unborn child could possibly be dead. He had stepped out of the shower and into an empty bedroom, had called her name and gotten no response in return.

She can feel the relief rolling off of him in waves, seeping through his fingertips that now rested so delicately on her body, and Leia can feel him let out a low sigh after awhile, resting his chin on top of her hair. 

“You’re alright, Princess.” 

She doesn’t feel like she is. Not really. She doesn’t know what’s going on anymore.

She doesn’t go back to sleep; neither does Han. Leia doesn’t think they could even if they wanted to. 

The trip back doesn’t take much longer; when they get back and jump out of lightspeed the sun’s starting to rise, deep pinks and purples illuminating the sky like spilled paint. Leia stays safely in Han’s arms until she feels the Falcon land beneath them, listens to the gentle hum of the engine eventually fade into silence. Han doesn’t move at first either, just keeps lazily running her fingers through her hair and Leia eventually tilts her head up slightly to glance at him. 

“Do you think they’ll make me go into work today?” Leia cracks a smile at the way Han smirks, shaking his head a bit and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“I don’t think anyone can tell you what to do, Your Highness.” Leia hums fondly and closes her eyes for a moment at the feeling of her husband’s lips pressed against her cheek, relishing in it before he’s pulling away and pulling her up with him. 

As soon as she steps off the ship she’s immediately knocked into, nearly losing her balance and colliding with Han behind her. It isn’t until she hears Luke’s voice muffled into her shoulder that she realizes what’s happening. 

“Fucking hell, Leia. Don’t you EVER disappear on me like that again, do you understand?!” Leia manages to grab onto his shoulders for support before her brother starts pulling away, lifting his head and staring her down with his big blue eyes, holding her face in his hands. “EVER. AGAIN.” 

Leia can’t help the smile that appears on her lips, eyes filling with tears before she’s throwing her arms around her twin brother and pulling him close, slightly downward to match her height and squeezing her eyes shut. She feels Luke begin to relax slightly as he sighs in relief, swaying her slightly in their spot in front of the Falcon. 

Her and Han are taken straight to the medical center to be examined, Han refusing to leave her side until one of the medics confirms to him that their baby is okay. Leia wasn’t really worried until she heard the concern in her husband’s voice, adamant on hearing a physical heartbeat before anyone was going to be allowed to see them. 

With the help of a droid Leia hears the gentle rhythmic thumping of her child’s heart; her baby, her son. She watches Han from the corner of her eyes, notes the way his shoulders fall slightly as the tension starts to melt away. 

She should tell him. She knows that.

“”Atta girl...or boy.” Leia watches her husband lean down and press a kiss to her stomach before lifting his head and doing the same to her cheek. “I’ll be back in a bit, let them fix me up.” His face had been swelling up since the showdown with the soldiers and Leia felt bad for not paying much attention; it didn’t look the best, plus all the dried blood on his forehead was starting to matt his hair. 

“Take your time, Han…” Leia manages a smile and watches her husband walk out, already ignoring the droid on his heels demanding that he take a blood sample from him. 

_I'll tell him. I will. Just...not right now._

“Do you always look this worried all the time now?” Leia turns her head slightly to face her brother again, sitting languidly in a chair beside her bed. “I could’ve told you your baby was fine.” He wiggles his fingers obnoxiously towards her, smirking. “I’ve got the Force.” 

Leia reaches behind her and throws her pillow at Luke without even thinking, earning a what she can only imagine is a disappointed look from the droid currently checking her vitals, making a disgruntled beeping noise. 

“Well you should’ve spoken up!” she snaps back croakily, holding her arm out for the robot. “You let him sit there and worry for nothing.”

“He wouldn’t have listened anyway, you know how stubborn he is. He’d have demanded another test anyway. Plus, it’s fun to watch him squirm.” Leia rolls her eyes at that, leaning against the remaining pillows behind her. 

“That’s a little fucked up, Luke.” Another angry noise comes from the droid and Luke shrugs a bit, scooting his chair forward. 

“I am who I am.” There’s a stretch of silence then, one that Leia is surprisingly comfortable in. The droid finishes with vitals and informs Leia that they can detect nothing wrong as if right now, but she should lay back and relax for awhile. 

“Guess they’ve never met you before, huh?” Leia smirks to herself as Luke speaks under his breath, watching the droid leave. “Asking Leia Organa to relax...what an idiot.” 

“Actually, relaxing sounds like heaven to me right now.” She rests her head against one of the pillows for dramatic effect, glancing towards her brother. “Hasn’t really been a relaxing day for me, you know.” 

Luke hums at that, his smile fading a bit. Leia averts her eyes and glances down at her hands, resting lazily on top of her stomach, fingers criss crossed over the fabric of her shirt. 

There’s a long beat of silence then, the air seeming to thicken in the room. Leia picks absently at one of her fingernails, feeling her son move around lazily beneath her skin. Luke is still watching her; she can feel her brother’s eyes on her face.

“You had a nightmare, didn’t you?” Another beat, interrupted only with the faint beeps of machines that fill the walls of the room. “On the Falcon.”

“Han tell you that?” The effort to speak is getting harder now. She can see her brother shake his head, and she turns her face to look at him. 

“No. We haven’t even really spoken since you got back, I’ve been with you the whole time.” Leia frowns slightly at this, realizing he’s right. Before she can open her mouth again he’s talking once more. “It’s all over your face. You look terrified, Leia.”

Leia lets out an exasperated breath at that, running her fingers agitatedly through her hair and meeting a mess of tangles in return. Gritting her teeth and dropping her hand back down in her lap she stares at a loose string on her sleeve, picking incessantly at it incessantly. 

“Well, I was kidnapped from my own fucking bedroom by people I’d never seen before,” she spits out irritably, but Luke doesn’t seem to react at her side. She can hear him shift in his chair slightly, seeing the way he leans forward and grabs onto the railing of the bed from the corner of her eye. 

“It felt real, huh? Like everything was happening right in front of your face and you couldn’t do a damn thing about it.” Leia closes her eyes at that, instinctively reaching over with her other hand and running her fingertips over the cool metal of her wedding band, bile rising to her throat as the sight of her husband bleeding out in their bed flashes through her mind once more.

“Stop,” she says firmly, and Luke obeys. He stays quiet for a few moments, lets Leia collect herself once more before she opens her eyes again, blinking away the moisture that’s begun to gather there. 

“How’d you know?” The question comes out as more of a whisper than anything, and even though the sound of it makes her feel weaker than ever she knows Luke won’t take it that way. She feels her brother reach over and grab ahold of her hand with his own. 

“Because they happen to me, too.” His skin is warm, soft, familiar. His fingers are slightly calloused but not as rough as Han’s, don’t have as much experience behind them. Leia stares down at them, at their fingers, her skin slightly paler than her brothers and doesn’t say anything for a long moment. 

“He was dead, Luke.” The way her voice cracks makes her want to die, to melt into the mattress in a puddle of tears once more. She hears her brother let out a small sigh in response, and she lowers her head to avoid his gaze. 

“God, he was bleeding so much. It was everywhere, all over the bed and the sheets and his shirt…” Leia slips her hand easily from her brother’s grasp to lift them to her face, rubbing at her now wet eyes, inhaling a shaky breath. “Fuck, it was so real…”

“It wasn’t real.” Luke’s voice is firm but soft, and Leia can feel his hands grab onto her shoulders. “None of it. The first time I had a dream like that it was about you dying. When I woke up I couldn’t move, I was so terrified.” 

Leia sniffles at that, pressing her palms into her eyes for a moment more before she lowers them again, glancing up at her brother through her lashes. “Why us?” she asks simply, feeling a stray tear slip down her cheek.

Luke tilts his head to the side slightly and gives her a pitying look, eyes full of unspoken exhaustion. 

“I wish I knew, Leia. I know you don’t use it like I do, but you’re just as Force sensitive as me. I think it plays with our heads, to be honest. Especially when we’re going through some sort of trauma.” Luke reaches over and gently wipes at her face, shrugging a bit. “Just our luck, too. It’s not like we don’t have a million other things on our plate.”

Leia gives a watery laugh at that, shaking her head a bit, tilting her gaze back down. 

“Yeah, story of our lives…” she murmurs quietly, letting her voice fade while picking idly at her fingernails, the pair of them falling silent for a moment. 

_ You can tell Luke; he's your brother, your twin. Tell him about your son and the men that are so desperately after him. Maybe he can help. _

“Does it feel weird?” Leia lifts her head up to look at Luke, raising an eyebrow questioningly at him for clarification. 

“Does...what feel weird?” Luke gives her a slightly patronizing look, as if she should be able to read his mind and know what he’s talking about; which, yeah, would make sense. 

“Being pregnant. I can’t imagine having something moving around inside of me all the time.” He gives a dramatic shudder for effect and Leia can’t help but snort at that, ignoring how much it hurts and shaking her head before leaning back slightly against the pillows, relaxing. 

“Not really. First time it happened I like, froze up. But I’m pretty used to it now, except when he’s kicking my organs.” Luke raises an eyebrow at that, a smile appearing on his lips. 

“He? You think it’s a boy?” Leia internally kicks herself for that one, struggling to keep her face clear of disappointment before giving a nonchalant shrug. 

“Or she. I switch back and forth, just wanna be equal.” _And I'm not ready to tell you that I know just yet,_ she says silently to herself, letting out a small sigh of relief at the way Luke seems to take this and move on, leaning back in his chair.

“Well, if it IS a boy, you’d better name him after your darling twin brother,” he says sweetly, tilting his head to the side slightly and Leia reaches out and smacks his shoulder in return, grinning at the way he gasps and flinches out of the way dramatically. 

_ he's already marked for the worst; even without the name Luke Skywalker my son is wanted. He hasn't even gotten a chance to live yet. _

“Here, wanna feel?” Without waiting for an answer Leia leans forward and grabs her brother’s hand, placing it on the side of her stomach, watching with an amused smile on her face as he gapes in shock at the way her son kicks on his palm. 

_Luke will protect him,_ she tells herself silently. _So will Han, and so will I, and so will this entire damn galaxy if I tell them to._

  
  


Her brother has his ear down to her belly, as if trying to listen to her son inside and Leia takes this brief moment of solitude to lift her head up towards the ceiling and close her eyes briefly, inhaling a deep breath through her nose. 

  
  


_Whatever deity is out there, looking over me in this universe...please, just take care of my son._

_***_

She feels awful for the fight they got into beforehand but every time she tries to bring it up he shuts it down, refuses to let her apologize. She finally quits when she realizes he hasn’t gone on a single rogue mission since returning. The Falcon stays put in the hangar unless official business tells him otherwise, and Leia feels guilty for ever thinking the things she did. 

People ask her for details about the kidnapping, trying to figure out who they could possibly have been but Leia acts like she doesn’t remember, pushes it away. Security goes up but nothing unusual happens; most people assume it to be a rogue group of bounty hunters that got a little too close to home. Leia doesn’t say a word.

Things go back to as normal as they can be, given the circumstances. Leia is back with Mon Mothma within a day, throwing herself into her work and not once looking back. Han is a little slower to return, but Leia thinks she can blame that on herself. It’s like he’s walking on eggshells around her for the first couple of weeks; she knows he isn’t doing it on purpose, but it’s exhausting to feel his constant gaze on her at every given moment.

She knows she scared him, she really does. Frankly, Leia isn’t entirely sure she’s processed what happened to her in the first place and instead of doing the rational thing and trying to talk it over, she buries it alive under the weight her job title carries, ignoring it until it’s nothing but an ache in her chest, flaring up when she sees her reflection in mirrors. 

A month or so afterwards she finally realizes what it is; she’s leaving the bathroom in the morning when her hair gets caught on the handle of a drawer, yanking it uncomfortably as she tries to leave through the door. The feeling makes her instantaneously nauseated, and although she could’ve easily blamed it on her son she knows that’s not the case. 

Han comes in a few minutes later to find Leia standing over the sink with a grip full of hair in her hand and scissors in the other, staring at the way her face is framed by the newly cut bob. There’s a brief moment where Leia just lets him stand in the doorway, feeling his eyes boring holes into the side of her face before she turns her head slightly to face him, swallowing a bit. 

“Do you hate it?” she asks suddenly, feeling stricken with panic out of nowhere. She’s surprised to see Han simply smiling at her, in that crooked way that makes his dimples seem deeper than they actually are. 

“Not at all, Princess. It fits you well.” 

So, life becomes a bit of a cycle, really. Work, eat, sleep, repeat. Sprinkle in a few nervous breakdowns here and there, then back on track. Leia is thankful Han’s married to her now; he can’t escape when she wakes herself up screaming in the middle of the night, or when she locks herself up in her office to finish work as an excuse to avoid sleeping at all. 

Not that he would, anyway; Han is too good to her.

If she’s awake, so is he. If she’s asleep, he’s right there beside her with his arms around her waist. Leia doesn’t really think it’s fair but the man never complains, at least not about that. Patience was never a word she associated with Han Solo until now, and for that she’s forever thankful. 

The dreams come randomly; she wishes she could plan them out, or at least prepare. They come for her throat in the middle of the night, and each time she wakes she feels like she’s being choked all over again, gasping for air and struggling to speak. 

Han develops a routine after the first couple of times; he finds that if he can get Leia wrapped up in his arms fast enough, she can piece together where she is faster. It’s a bit pathetic, really, but it works. Leia’s first breath when she wakes is the scent of her husband, and the first thing she feels is the warmth of his chest pressed against her face. He uses one large hand to brush her hair from her eyes and hold it there, forcing her head up gently to look at him and focus on his face, on his voice, constantly reassuring her it’s okay and that he’s here, and she’s okay, and they’re safe. 

It’s awful, but Luke grimly informs her that it’s unfortunately a normal occurrence, and probably won’t stop for a long time. He keeps in touch when he can; they’re both busy people, and he’s on the other side of the parsec. As much as she loves her husband, it’s different talking to someone who knows exactly what she’s going through. Plus, it’s not a crime to miss your twin brother. 

Weeks pass and Leia still doesn’t bring up the cryptic messages from the soldiers to anyone; it gets to the point where it feels like it’d be stupid to talk about it now. Things are slowly returning to normal and Leia’s dreams don’t necessarily involve them much; just a lot of pain and panic. In all honesty, when she wakes up in Han’s arms after each one, she can’t remember what it was about. He tells her it’s just pregnancy brain but she knows better, and so does he. 

One night in particular is worse than others, and it takes Han several minutes to calm her back down from that one. He’s got her pulled up in her lap, belly and all, large arms wrapped around her shoulders and gently stroking her hair, shushing her softly like a child before she finally manages to stop crying, her sobs turning into violent little tremors that shake her whole body every few seconds. 

“That was a bad one…” He doesn’t seem to say it to her but rather himself, and Leia can feel him sigh softly against the top of her head. “Hasn’t been that bad in awhile.” 

Leia doesn’t respond at first, only because she feels like she physically can’t. Instead she focuses on the way Han’s got one of his arms draped over her stomach now, fingertips tracing imaginary patterns over the fabric of her shirt. It’s soothing, familiar, calm. 

“You okay?” 

_That’s a loaded question,_ she thinks to herself. She manages to give a small nod in response before Han’s laying her back down again, scooting her gently off his lap and back onto the bed. “Let’s just lay back down for awhile. I know you don’t want to sleep and you don’t have to, I just want you to relax…” 

She lets her husband take his time, lets him pull the comforter over her small body like she’s a child being tucked in, focuses on trying to stop the way her body shakes with every watery breath. Han is patient, laying down on his side and just watching her with those always intense eyes, eventually reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear, fingertips lingering against the side of her face for a few seconds. 

“There was someone from our past in my dream.” Her voice is thick with the effort of sobbing just minutes before, sniffling again before rubbing her eyes tiredly and continuing. “Obi-Wan.”

“Old Kenobi, huh?” Han gives a soft hum at that, still lazily stroking her hair. “I’m sure he was kicking ass left and right.” Leia cracks a smile at that, and she can see Han relax slightly at her side. 

“Not particularly. He was at the beginning, before all the...other stuff happened.” She definitely does not feel like going into detail about the number of gruesome things she saw happen to her husband and her brother, and quickly continues. “You know, we never met.”

“That so?” Leia lifts her eyes a bit to see Han’s raised brow, propping himself up slightly on his elbow to better see. “He worked for your father, didn’t he?”

“Mhmm…” Leia reaches forward and begins to play with a string hanging off her husband’s shirt, picking at it with her fingernail. “I’m sure he was around the palace a lot while I was a kid, but I was too busy raising hell to notice.” She hears Han smirk quietly above her, dropping his hand down onto the mattress. 

“Well, I don’t doubt that.” Leia keeps her gaze downward, pursing her lips slightly in thought in the silence that follows his words. Han must catch on and avoids saying anything else, instead opting to reach forward with his own hand and begin to trace the stitching on her shirt over her stomach.

“He was there when I was born, you know.” The words slip out before she can stop them, still twiddling with the piece of string. “Luke and I. He’s the one that...sent us out, I guess.” She chews lightly on her bottom lip, pausing for a second. “He, uh...apparently he told Padme he’d protect us, no matter the cost. I guess they were...really close, or something.” She swallows a bit at that, frowning slightly and tries to hide it by gnawing on her lip again. Han is quiet, still following the intricate pattern of stitches on her clothes with his fingertip. 

“Did you find this out when you were younger?” he asks quietly, and his tone is nonchalant, soft, kind. Leia is relieved to hear there’s no sense of doubt in his voice, like he’s unsure that what she’s saying is true, even though it is. To be honest, Leia hadn’t ever heard anything about her real parents before she found out who Vader was, let alone during her time on Alderaan. 

Leia had seen this in a dream, one that had had such an air of reality to it that she had woken up gasping in shock, and Han had seriously thought she was having some sort of asthma attack even though she’d never had it a day in her life. She was jarred for days afterwards, and Han hadn’t pressed her for information after assuming it was just another nightmare, and left it alone. 

In all honesty, it had been pretty awful. It was like she’d been a fly on the wall in the room of her own birth, watching with a painful gaze as her mother struggled immensely with the labor. She’d never actually seen Padme before but she knew it was her, and she knew what was happening. She didn’t recognize the other man in the room until her mother started calling him by his name; Ben. 

Leia could do nothing but watch everything unfold; the way Ben Kenobi took her and Luke in his arms, his broken gaze and tearful eyes on her face as Padme begged him to protect her twins, her babies. It was one of the most intimate things she’d ever witnessed, and it wasn’t even real. 

Han had told her she was crying when she woke up, but it was nothing but rivers of silent tears staining her cheeks. Ben’s last words before she had woken up still echoed in her head, sending chills up her spine and making the hairs on her arms stand on end. 

_ They'll be safe. I promise you, they;ll be well prepared for what the future holds. _

“Sort of,” she halfway lies through her teeth, and if Han suspects her of that he doesn’t make a comment, instead just giving a small nod in response. 

“So old Ben just showed up in your dream randomly? A little weird, but I never know what’s going on in that crazy brain of yours, anyway.” Leia smiles faintly at that, propping her own head up with her arm. 

“Guess he just wanted to pay a visit…” she murmurs, voice faltering towards the end. She wrinkles her nose a bit, furrowing her brow and choosing her next words carefully as she feels Han beginning to rhythmically run his hand over her belly. “Han, do you think...would it be okay, if we have a son...to name him Ben?” 

Han pauses his movement then, stopping on the side of her stomach before lifting his gaze towards her, their eyes meeting from across the bed. 

“You wanna name our baby Ben?” His tone isn’t rude or harsh or anything else she’d be expecting out of Han, just...curious. 

Leia swallows again, nodding her head a bit in response. “Yeah, I just...I don’t know. He did a lot for my mother, and for me and Luke.” She shifts her weight a bit on her side, trying not to make it too obvious that she’s uncomfortable with the way Han is looking at her. “Plus, he brought us together. I don’t think you and I would’ve met had it not been for him.” 

She hates the way her husband looks at her sometimes; him and his stupid face and pretty eyes and dark eyebrows. Leia feels like she’s on trial right now, staring back at Han’s face that is empty of any and all emotion, unable to figure out what he’s thinking. 

“It’s stupid, right?” Leia feels like her tongue is ready to slip from her mouth, struggling to get her words out fast enough and save herself the embarrassment. “I’m just panicking over not having any names picked out, and I’m already like, eight months along and-“ 

“I love it.” Leia can hear her heart beat in her ears then, unsure if it’s due to the flushing of her cheeks or her husband’s words. Maybe both. 

She opens her mouth to speak and then closes it again, furrowing her brow deeply at him. 

“Yeah?” is all she manages to get out, her voice soft and barely audible. Han is smiling now, deep dimples appearing in his cheek and for a split second all Leia can think about is how badly she hopes her son inherits his father’s grin. 

“Yeah,” he repeats quietly, and Leia feels his thumb rub gently against the warm skin of her cheek. “It’s a great name, and your reasonings arent stupid, Leia. I’ve been just as lost trying to think of names as you too, you know. Plus, I was gonna let you name our kid whatever the hell you want. Just as long as it wasn’t after Luke.” 

Leia can’t help but laugh at that, shaking her head and tucking her face down towards his neck, closing her eyes and laying there for a moment. She feels Han’s large hand start to run back and forth over the top of her stomach again, feeling his throat vibrate as he talks above her head. 

“What do you think, kid? Ben a good name for you, even if you end up being a girl?” Leia smiles fondly, feeling the way their son seems to come alive at the sound of being spoken to, kicking excitedly against his father’s palm. She hears Han murmur something happily into her hair, lets him slip his other arm around her back and pull her closer to his chest, closing her eyes and breathing in for a split second. 

  
_Ben Solo, I can't wait to meet you._  
  


Leia goes into labor in the middle of the night a few weeks later; of course, she doesn’t even realize it. 

She’d always been prone to ignoring pain; she had a high tolerance for it, ever since she was a kid. Years of scraped up knees and bruises from the harsh land that was Alderaan had worn off on her; most of the time only the shocked scream of one of the palace maids would alert her into realizing she was, in fact, bleeding.

So when she wakes up the next morning with her lower back hurting, she brushes it off as normal pain. Leia wasn’t exactly unfamiliar with backaches; they’d been rampant for the last couple of weeks or so, and her busy work schedule kept the pain from interrupting her daily routine. Every time Han mentioned “slowing down a bit, Princess,” Leia would shoot him a look that eventually led to him holding his hands up in defeat and turning on his heel to leave the room. 

She was fine. She was pregnant, not dying. 

The pain does wake her up earlier than normal, and she turns her head to see Han fast asleep beside her, face buried in his pillow and blankets pulled up over his shoulders. He’d been complaining about how cold Leia had made their room, and she’s sweetly replied to him that he better get off his ass and get more blankets if he wanted to warm up because no one but her would be touching the thermostat. He’s cuter when he’s bundled up, anyway. 

As much as she hates to admit it, it’s been getting harder to maneuver around when half of your body weight is an unborn baby threatening to topple you forward at any given moment. More than once Leia’s had to grab onto Han’s arm to keep from falling, and even though he doesn’t say anything she can see that stupid childish smirk that hangs on the corner of his mouth for a split second before disappearing entirely. What a bastard. 

Leia manages to pull herself up and out of bed and finishes changing clothes by the time Han grumbles from the other side of the room, and she can hear the familiar sound of him yanking blankets over his head. 

“What time is it?” Leia allows herself a smug smile, letting her hair down before running her fingers through it.

“Early.” Han huffs irritably at the smart response, and when she steps back in the room she can see him lifting his head and squinting up towards the light she’d turned on. 

“But why?” Leia rolls her eyes at his overdramatic whining, crossing the room with boots in hand. 

“Bases don’t run themselves, and lieutenants don’t get sleep.” She holds out the boots wordlessly towards him and Han huffs again, although this time it’s more of a laugh and less annoyed.

“Pregnant ones do,” he replies pointedly, and Leia sets her jaw in what she hopes comes across as a defiant way while watching Han sit up slowly, yawning sleepily while he unties the laces of the shoes, continuing. 

“What’s on the agenda for today then, Princess?” Leia ponders this for a moment, silently flipping through mental files and lists of all the shit she needs to get done, trying to figure out some type of order while Han slips the boots onto her feet, carefully tying them up with long fingers. 

She’s just about to reply when several things happen all at once. 

First, there’s a loud noise that echoes from somewhere on the base, an explosion. 

Second, Han drops her foot back down onto the bed in surprise just as there’s a violent shudder that seems to shake their entire room, the entire building. 

Third, Leia’s back aches painfully. 

Fourth, the emergency alarms begin to blare in their ears, decimating their ear drums and blinding them with flashing lights. 

And fifth, Leia feels it, a strange feeling that blooms from the pit of her chest. The same thing she felt all those months ago when she’d been taken in the middle of the night. 

A nervous, weak tremble in the Force. 

Han’s out of bed before Leia even registers what’s happening, throwing on the first articles of clothing he can find. Leia blinks rapidly, glancing up at the bright red alarms and outside their door she can hear people barreling down the hallway, shoes carrying them faster than light. 

Their bedroom door is suddenly opened with a loud crashing noise and Leia can hear loud, erratic beeping from R2D2 accompanied by C3PO’s ever anxious voice. 

“Lieutenant Organa! We’re under attack!” As if on cue there’s another loud explosion from elsewhere in their general vicinity that shakes the room even more than before, and Leia has to catch herself on the edge of the bed from falling right off. 

“What makes you say that?” Han chimes in angrily from the other side of the room, boots heavy against the floor as he makes his way over to the bedside table and grabs his blaster. “Come on Princess, you’ve got a flight to catch.” 

Leia furrows her brow and jerks out of Han’s way as he leans forward to pick her up, standing (surprisingly) steady on her feet. 

“What, and abandon the base? I’m not leaving until everyone is off this planet.” Han’s eyebrows fly somewhere towards his hairline and nearly disappear, mouth hanging agape as Leia shoulders her way past him and towards the doors. 

“Are you INSANE?!” Another searing pain in her lower back makes Leia flinch but she manages to mask it by pretending to run into Threepio. 

“Yes,” she snaps back irritably, keeping her head forward and weaving her way through the crowds of people clogging up the hallway. 

Their base had been kept fairly well hidden for awhile now; the largest incident they’d had up until this point was a stray bounty hunter crash landing on their planet, with whom Han had taken a liking to until Leia had found out about the types of people after him and had asked him to leave. It didn’t make sense why they were being attacked; by what people had been frantically saying in her ear, they had no idea who this group even was. 

Deep down inside herself, Leia feels guilt. It’s mixed with the anxious feeling in her chest and the horrible aching in her back and frankly, makes her want to throw up all over the shiny metal floor but there’s no time for that. 

She can hear Han a few steps behind her, his loud voice carrying up through the chaos and acting as a sort of anchor to keep her head clear.

“Ma’am, our ships have been targeted.” Leia stops abruptly in front of a worker who’d cut her off in the middle of the hallway, his young eyes frantic and face covered in a thin layer of soot from an explosion. “They don’t want us leaving.” 

“Not if I can help it.” The words leave her mouth before she can stop them, sharp and hot against her tongue and she can feel the familiar heat that begins in her face when she starts to get angry pinken her cheeks. She feels Han stop behind her, placing his hands against against the small of her back to keep himself from stumbling forward. 

“What’s going on?” Leia reaches behind her and grabs ahold of his wrist before beginning to stride forward again, all but dragging the larger man behind her while talking to the young one. 

“Listen to me, I need you to start getting everyone on the cruiser, including Mothma. Force her if you have to. Get the squadrons in the air, let them do what they can to distract the enemy, but get everyone out. Jump to lightspeed and get to the nearest rebel base for safety. I’m going to send a distress call, understood?”

The worker’s eyes are light and wide, but he’s got a strong face. Leia thinks of herself for a split second. 

“Yes, Lieutenant.” Leia gives him a curt nod before he’s turning on his heels and running off, raising an eyebrow at the two droids in front of her. “Follow him, make sure he doesn’t fuck it up.”

R2 beeps almost understandingly, Threepio making some comment about “unholy language” but they follow suit, disappearing down the hallway as Leia keeps moving forward, ducking into a control room on her left. 

She nearly forgets about Han behind her until the annoying bastard makes himself known again with his loud voice. 

“And WHY aren’t you getting yourself on that cruiser with the rest of them, Princess?!” Leia grits her teeth and closes her eyes, leaning forward against the control panel with both of her hands. 

“Can you just shut up for a second?!” she hisses angrily, sucking in a deep breath while letting another wave of pain run its course through her body. “I’m in labor, you fucking moron.”

Leia still wishes to this day she could’ve seen his face; she likes to imagine his head just exploding into little tiny pieces as he put it all together. There’s a moment of shocked silence that follows, which is considerably amazing in and of itself since the man had never stopped talking a day in his life other than when he’d been frozen in carbonite, and Leia has just let out the breath she’d been holding in when he finally loses it. 

“YOU’RE WHAT?!” Leia ignores this, as she does most men. The pain is still there but in the form of a dull ache now, manageable enough to work around. She begins typing on the keyboard, hitting buttons and letting her eyes flicker over multiple screens at once while she listens to the stupid man she’s so in love with behind her literally stutter over his words. 

“I don’t...what do you mean? SINCE WHEN?!” Leia hits another button, watching the screen illuminate before she goes to work on the keyboard again, typing out a distress signal with steady fingers. 

“Last night,” she supplies nonchalantly, her eyes never leaving the screen. “I’m assuming. I woke in pain this morning. They’re about...five minutes apart? I don’t know, it’s hard to keep time when your base is being attacked.” Leia finishes the message before sending it off, and just in time too; there’s another loud explosion that’s uncomfortably close to where they are now, shaking the entire room like an earthquake and Leia stumbles forward before Han catches her by her forearms, long fingers wrapping around them easily. 

“You’re fucking insane, you know that?” Leia tilts her head up and meets his eyes and, despite it all and despite the shitshow of a situation they’re both in, gives him a small smile in return. 

“Our poor kid’s gonna be a mess, huh?” 

Han manages a smug little smirk in return before there’s another loud explosion rocking the foundation around him before he’s got Leia scooped up in his arms bridal style, already making a beeline for the door. 

“Our kid needs a place to be born, let’s worry about that first.” 

Leia slips an arm around the top of his neck to keep steady while he runs, her feet bouncing with each step and the movement doing absolutely nothing for her pain. Without thinking she slides her other arm over her belly and she can tell Han notices, because the running picks up indefinitely. 

Chaos is something Leia has known for a long time; on Alderaan, she was the master of it. When she left home, it followed her. She didn’t purposefully seek it out (not anymore, at least) but it always seemed to find her, written in the stars like some sort of fucked up prophecy that seemed to say, ‘you’re not a Jedi like your brother, but here’s all the shit that comes with it’. 

Chaos is the only word she can use to describe what’s happening now; hundreds of people running towards the ships, smoke billowing from buildings that had stood just minutes before and ones that Leia had memorized from restless nights of gazing out her window. She sinks her fingernails into Han’s shoulder without even thinking, but he doesn’t seem to notice; he’s all eyes toward the other end of the dock, speeding up even faster before calling out loudly. 

“Chewie! Come take her and put her on the Falcon!” Leia jerks her head just in time to see Chewbacca rushing forward, barely having time to make a defiant noise before she’s being passed into the Wookiee’s arms. 

“And where do you think you’re going?!” she demands loudly, staring down at Han now that she’s at a taller height. 

Han is already halfway gone, back turned as he races past the crowds of people still rushing to get on cruisers. 

“Checking for stragglers! Get her inside, Chewie! I’ll be back soon!” Leia grits her teeth angrily, ready to launch herself down and onto the floor again but Chewie is strong, makes an adamant roaring noise before taking her aboard. 

The inside of the Falcon has never done much to calm her down, but it does seem to drown out the constant noise from outside. As soon as she’s on her feet she nearly topples over, cursing loudly as the pain in her lower back gets even worse out of nowhere. 

She doesn’t know a thing about having babies. There was a ritual on Alderaan for childbirth that had quite frankly deterred her from ever procreating at all but damn, it would’ve been a good idea to pay attention to what had been going on. Any sane person would’ve done their research during the nine months of waiting, but she wasn’t that sane at all.

Leia leans forward and grabs onto the nearest thing to her; a railing against one of the inner walls. The metal is cold against her palms, steadies her for a moment and she sucks in another deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut and trying her hardest to focus on anything else. 

It’s then when she feels it again; the warm feeling, deep within her chest, an energy that she can almost hear humming from inside her ribcage. 

It’s stronger than before, stronger than it was in their bedroom and it takes Leia a sickeningly slow moment to realize it’s exactly the same as it was when she was strapped to that chair all those months ago. 

She manages to look up and duck just in time to miss a saber to the head, hearing the weapon as it makes contact with the metal wall above her. 

There’s nothing but pure adrenaline that sets in then, causing her feet to move and carry her towards the cockpit where she knows Chewie is. 

“I need a gun, get me a gun!” There’s multiple footsteps behind her and she feels her heart sink down towards the bottom of her stomach, throwing the door open to find Chewie already barreling out around her, roaring angrily. 

There’s another noise outside of the Falcon; louder and different this time, and it momentarily stops Leia in her tracks, glancing out of the front window. 

The cruisers are taking off, lifting into the dark pink sky and taking off in a large group; surrounding them are pilots in their ships, surrounding them protectively to prevent them from getting shot at. 

Despite it all, Leia gives them a triumphant smile. 

_Good,_ she thinks. _I've got them right where I want them._

Chewie’s roar from down the hallway interrupts her thoughts, and she immediately starts searching through the cockpit in an attempt to find a weapon, anything to help her. Her fingers wrap around a knife stuck beneath the pilot’s chair and she pulls it up quickly, silently thanking Han for being paranoid and taking off towards the noise. 

When she rounds the corner she sees Chewie firing shots towards the other side of the ship, the rest of the soldiers dodging and hiding behind walls. Leia grits her teeth angrily, feeling another wave of pain begin to snake through her body and she uses it to press forward, sneaking around Chewie and towards one of the men, rounding the corner and digging the knife into his gloved hand.

The scream he lets out is pure satisfaction to Leia’s ears, watching him drop his saber and catching it with one hand before taking off towards the Wookiee again.

“Chewie, right behind me-” She feels her feet being yanked out from underneath her out of nowhere then, gasping and tripping forward before being flipped onto her back at the last second, hitting the metal floor with a loud thud. Her skull makes contact and she flinches in pain, cursing under her breath before looking up towards the soldier from before, hand outstretched and shaking again. 

“Can’t hurt the precious cargo.” The deep voice from her nightmares is real again, and Leia tries to get up but feels herself being kept down by the Force, pressed so tightly against the floor that she can barely move. “Time’s up, your Highness. He’s all ours now.”

Leia’s hands are clenched tightly around the saber still, fingers fighting to move the switch but to no avail. The pain in her back hasn’t stopped; she can feel it rolling through her body like waves.

She can’t see Chewie but she can only assume the rest of the soldiers have him down too; she can still hear him spitting out words somewhere behind her. 

The soldier takes a step forward, his feet coming dangerously close to her face and she takes in the shiny leather of his black boots for a second, gaze flickering back up towards him. 

“Stay still. I can knock you out with a single kick, and when you wake up he’ll be gone.” Leia clenches her jaw at his words, feeling the way he knocks the lightsaber from her hand with his shoe before he’s moving again and suddenly he’s thrown back by a blaster shot to the chest, and Leia can fully breathe again.

Han’s hands are beneath her armpits in seconds, lifting her up with ease and pushing her behind his body, shooting off his blaster again before inching back towards the cockpit. 

“Take cover, I’ve got this!” Chewie’s loud roar is echoing amongst the halls once more and she hears another loud scream from a different soldier this time, the Wookiee rounding the corner in front of them a few seconds later. “Leia, go!” 

Leia’s got her hands clamped onto the back of her husband’s shirt; the pain is at its highest now, and she feels almost immobile from it. She sucks in a breath before letting go and turning on her heel, ambling her way towards the front once more.

She barely makes it to the passenger’s seat before she collapses, catching herself onto the railing and groaning in pain, squeezing her eyes shut. 

“Fuck fuck fuck…” She feels the inside of her legs beginning to grow wet with something; whatever it is, she doesn’t know anymore. The noises outside are beginning to muffle, and she eventually lets go of the armrests to sit down on the floor, leaning against one of the sides. 

She feels nauseated, her head spinning with a million different things and pain taking over every individual cell of her body. She pulls her knees up to help alleviate the pain but it does nothing, so she presses her palms to the metal floor for support and tries to remember how the fuck to breathe again. 

It feels like years before she hears Han’s frantic steps running towards her again, Chewie’s following right behind. Her eyes are still closed but she can picture what’s happening; Chewie’s frantic movements at the front, pressing buttons until the ship begins to hum to life beneath them, and Han’s hands are suddenly on her shoulders again, his voice panicked and close. 

“Leia?” Leia opens her eyes with difficulty, blinking inches away from her husband’s face who’s got a bruise on his right cheekbone but looks otherwise unscathed. She wants to say something but all that comes out is another groan, immediately leaning forward as another contraction hits her like a battering ram. 

“Fuck…” Leia lets her head hang and feels Han scoop her up in his arms carefully, already halfway down the hallway before she can suck in another painful breath, reaching their bedroom.

She’s back in the bed in seconds; _this damn fucking bed,_ she thinks irately to herself. _Where this whole thing fucking started._

It’s hard to see; Leia hasn’t ever known what people meant by the term “blinding pain” until this very moment, and the tears in her eyes are a mixture of a million different emotions at once. It would take her years to name everything she’s feeling, and she can feel time beginning to run out like sand in an hourglass. 

Through the haziness of agony her body is putting her through she hears Han’s voice, almost muffled in her ears. She wants to lift her head to see where he is but the thought is cut off by a loud cry that escapes her mouth, one that she doesn’t recognize ever making before. It’s alarming. 

“Leia! Leia, focus on me, come on…” It isn’t until she feels a hand on her face that she opens her eyes, blinking through tears enough to make out Han’s watery face above hers, feeling his thumb brush a strand of hair from her vision. 

“You’re okay, I’m right here, alright? It’s gonna be okay.” There’s something different about the way he’s speaking to her now; his voice seems to drag with the weight of something unspoken, a softness to his tone that Leia senses is purely human. She can feel the rough skin of his palm pressed against the side of her cheek, providing her with something to lean on even if it’s only for a moment. It makes all the difference in the world. 

Leia is suddenly very aware of how fast her heart is beating inside of her chest, pumping blood throughout her body in a way that makes her feel like she’s going into shock. There’s so many things happening at once and yet suddenly none of that matters because Han is looking at her with those hazel eyes she loves so much, the ones she fell in love with from the day she’d first saw him.

“I’m scared.” The words tumble from her mouth before she can stop them, and she watches Han’s usually always hardened face begin to soften, furrowing his eyebrows slightly. 

“Yeah well...you and me both, Princess.” The admittance of fear is something that Leia feels should be more astounding; never in her life has she heard this man confess he was anything but prepared and ready and brave and, truthfully, she’d always believed it. Han Solo embodied confidence wherever he went, even at times when he really shouldn’t have but that’s why she loved him. It was something no amount of soldiers or Stormtroopers could take away from him. 

Not until today. Not until their son.

“It’s gonna be fine.” Han’s voice sounds like he’s trying to convince himself of the words he’s saying out loud, and Leia watches him lift his head and turn his face behind him. “It’ll all be fine if Chewie would just GET US TO THE BASE FASTER!” 

There’s an annoyed roar from the front of the ship and Han’s got his face turned back towards her once more, head tilted downward and anxiously pushing her hair back behind her ear. 

“We’ll get you to the base, and the medics will take care of you, and our baby won’t have to be born in the middle of hyperspace.” Despite it all Leia can’t help but crack a weary smile at that, tilting her head and leaning her face into the touch of his hand, shaking her head slowly. 

“Han...I don’t think we’re gonna make it back to the base in time.” It sounds almost comical saying it out loud; of course Han Solo and Leia Organa’s child is going to be born on the Millennium Falcon. It’s almost poetic, in a really fucked up way. 

Leia watches what feels like millions of emotions play across his face in the span of a few seconds; shock, fear, sadness, confusion, and then finally realization, light eyes widening out of nowhere. He lets out a long breath then, seeming to steady himself.

“Right.” There’s a rush of movement then, Han seeming to process a bunch of different things at once. Leia feels her head being gently deposited onto the pillow behind her before the older man is nervously rushing across the room, seeking things that she can only imagine now that her eyes are closed. 

Every time she thinks the pain has reached its peak, it worsens. There’s no limit to it, and as much as she wants to believe there’s nothing that can break her down it’s a lie. 

She wants to disappear, sink deep into the mattress that she’s so desperately digging her fingernails into and just cease to exist, even if it’s just for a moment so she can catch her breath. There are no rules to this game; she feels like there’s not even a way to win. 

She misses Luke; it’s weird, but she does. She thinks of her twin brother; the older one, the Jedi master, the one who had the entire weight of the world placed on his shoulders from the moment he was born. 

Was this how she’d felt, too? Did Padme know her son was destined for things she couldn’t even begin to fathom the day he arrived? 

_Please don't die,_ she thinks faintly to herself. _You can't leave your son behind. Not when the whole universe is already after him._

Leia tries to focus on the familiar hum of the Falcon around her as an anchor back to reality, but it doesn’t work. She feels warm, her cheeks flushed with the effort of staying conscious, and she can feel her clothes sticking to her skin with a sheen layer of sweat now. If she’s going to burn, then let her burn. At least she’d be reborn from the ashes. 

It isn’t until the cool touch of Han’s fingers make contact with the inside of her wrist that she finally opens her eyes again, feeling droplets of sweat sting them as they drip through her lashes. 

“Look at me, okay?” Han looks painfully real now, the fear etched onto his face like he’s made of stone. His voice is soft in a way she’s never heard it before; her heart aches painfully as she thinks of her mother again. He is all eyes for her, holding her gaze and keeping a gentle grip around her wrist. 

“It’s gonna be alright, Leia. I promise you.” She can see the way his right cheekbone is beginning to swell. She swallows thickly, fighting down the sob in her throat that is threatening to erupt at any moment before he’s speaking again. 

“Focus on my voice, and nothing else. We’re going to do this together, you and me. Nothing else matters.” 

Leia manages not to cry until Han’s other hand is on her face again, cradling her cheek and she lets out a small sniffle while he leans forward and presses a kiss to her forehead, tilting his own face down to make skin to skin contact. “I love you.” 

She’s kissing the corner of his mouth before she can stop herself, letting herself cry into the outline of his jaw for just a moment before she’s pulling away again, laying back against the pillows and nodding quickly, sniffling once more. 

“I know,” she manages out breathlessly, and there’s a fleeting moment where they both smile at each other before the pain is back and she’s squeezing her eyes shut again. 

Leia doesn’t remember details, although she feels like she should; don’t all mothers remember the monotonous things about the birth of their children? She can make a short list, at least. 

One; the heat. She’s sure it was just the effort with which she was pushing and the normal reaction of her body, but she likes to think it had something to do with the Falcon’s shitty AC system. Han wouldn’t necessarily deny it. 

Two; Han’s voice; her anchor to reality and the only thing letting her know that she wasn’t actually dead. His words were faint but through the blood rushing in her ears and the rapid breaths it was there, clear as day and keeping her from sinking under for good. 

And three; that first cry. That beautiful, chaotic, loud, wonderful first cry of her baby, of her son. 

Of Ben. 

When she hears him she opens her eyes and lets out a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding, coming out of her so fast and so quickly she feels like her chest begins to collapse. Leia manages to lift her head up and it’s then that she sees him for the first time; pale skin, dark brown hair, flailing limbs and halfway wrapped in Han’s own jacket, crying loudly in his father’s arms. 

Leia lets her eyes dart up to Han’s face and she feels her breath leave her chest once more, his hazel eyes all for Ben and unmistakably full of tears. She realizes then that it’s the first time she’s ever seen him cry. It’s overwhelming.

“He’s...Leia, it’s...it’s a boy! It’s Ben!” Leia smiles waterily at his stuttering, managing a small nod.

“Sure is,” she responds weakly, watching the way Han just automatically brings him to rest against his chest, like he’s meant to be there, and he fits perfectly. 

It takes Han a few seconds to realize that Ben would probably benefit from seeing his mother, not that Leia even really notices; she’s still in tears when Han rounds the side of the bed and leans down to deposit their son in her arms, and she blinks furiously in order to see his face properly for the first time. 

It’s a waste, really; she starts crying even harder when he glances up at her with his dark, watery eyes. 

Leia doesn’t remember details but she remembers the feeling of that moment; euphoric, overwhelming, painful, thousands of different things rolled up into something that made the sobbing never stop, closing her eyes and burying her face into Ben’s hair, kissing his warm skin and murmuring into his ear. 

“I’m here now, Ben...I’m never gonna let anything happen to you, I promise.” 

She feels Han’s weight to her left as he sits down on the bed, relishing in the way he slides his arms around her shoulders and pulls her close, mirroring the way she’s kissing Ben’s hair on the top of her head. 

“Are you okay?” he murmurs quietly, and all Leia can do is nod in response, sniffling again before leaning her head onto his shoulder and keeping Ben at her chest, his cries finally faltering to nothing. 

She feels the Falcon begin to land a few moments later, trembling and coming to rest on the ground of the planet. The familiar hum of the engines subside, and she lifts her head once Han begins to move, getting out of bed and turning to face them. 

“I hope the medical bay on this planet doesn’t suck.” Leia gives him a small laugh in response, pulling Ben in close as Han leans down and scoops her up from the bed, comforter and all. She’s wrapped up like a child, her own bloody clothes pressed against her skin and hidden from the outside world, one that all collectively gasps the moment they step off the Falcon. 

Leia does imagine it’s a sight to see; the once pregnant lieutenant wrapped in the arms of her husband and their newborn son in her arms, people they’d probably thought hadn’t made it off the base in the first place. She tries her best to give them a reassuring smile at first, but soon finds that it’s almost impossible to lift her eyes away from her now sleeping son. 

_You look like your dad, my love,_ she thinks idly to herself. _I wonder how much trouble that's gonna get you into._

  
  


She figures she fades in and out of sleep those next couple of hours; she doesn't remember getting to the hospital at all, much less getting cleaned and taken care of. She’s exhausted, much more than she’s ever been before and that’s saying a lot. 

When she finally comes to it’s dark in the room, and it takes her a few moments of squinting and blinking to realize where she’s at. At her side is a table with a lamp on it, faded light illuminating the left of the room and Han in a chair a few feet away, a familiar white bundle resting delicately in his arms. 

He doesn’t notice her at first, and for that Leia is very thankful. She doesn’t get much of a chance to watch Han; he’s always moving at what feels like lightspeed, never content with what he finishes. The spark that keeps him driven is more like a fire, burning him if he ever stops to pause. 

He’s still now. He looks tired but isn’t asleep, one large hand hovering over Ben’s tiny face before carefully slipping his blanket down a bit, and Leia watches one rough fingertip make contact with their son’s face, stroking the side of his cheek with an almost imperceptible movement. 

She wants to cry again. She almost does, until Han looks up at her and smiles. 

“Morning, Princess.” 

He’s stepping over before Leia even bring herself to sit up, lifting her head and watching the way he moves Ben to his right arm and slips his left one behind her back to help. 

“How are you feeling?” Leia makes a disgruntled noise at that, adjusting the pillows behind her. 

“Like I just gave birth, but besides that I’m just peachy.” Han smirks lightly at that, bringing his arm back down beneath their son. 

“Well, I’m sure he was worth all that…” Leia feels the way her cheeks burn from smiling so big, reaching her hands out towards Ben and pulling him to her chest. He’s warm, wrapped up in his blanket and his head falls to rest against the side of her neck, soft hair brushing against the edge of her chin. She places a hand delicately on his head and holds him there, thumb running against his smooth skin.

“Kid’s been sleeping all morning...well, until Luke came, but as soon as he left he was out again.” Leia looks up at that, raising her eyebrows in surprise. 

“Luke was here?” Beneath her she feels Ben yawn into her skin, his tiny hand curling up against her collarbone.

“Yeah, couple of hours ago.” Leia watches Han sit on the edge of the bed, running his hand up and down her leg absentmindedly, fingers brushing slowly against the rough fabric of her blanket. “Said he’d be back once you-”

“Once you woke up.” Leia swears she feels something pop in her neck when she whips her head up then, eyes widening at the sound of her brother’s voice. 

“Luke!” Her brother looks the same as ever, bright eyed and smiling save for slightly longer hair and the beginnings of scruff on his face. 

“About time you woke up; you know I have kids to train, right?” Leia rolls her eyes at him but doesn’t lose her grin, rubbing her thumb gently against the back of Ben’s hair. 

“Yeah yeah, save it. I’m sure you’d be up and ready to go after having a baby,” she retorts, watching Han stand and stretch from her right.” 

“You two play...catch up, or whatever it is twins do while I’m gone. I’m starving.” Leia tilts her head up just in time to receive a kiss on the forehead, feeling her cheeks flush from the contact. “I’ll be back in a bit, yeah?”

Leia nods in response, giving him a warm smile and watches Han lean down and kiss Ben in the same spot on his head before turning and leaving, doors opening and closing behind him. 

“You know, I’m surprised Han even knew how to hold a baby in the first place.” Leia snickers at that, shaking her head and feeling Luke climb onto the bed on her left, leaning against the pillows. “I was impressed when I first showed up. 

“And how exactly did you know when and where to show up?” Leia presses curiously, turning her head to watch Luke shrug. 

“Twin telepathy?” Leia pulls a face at that and makes Luke laugh, reaching down and touching Ben’s hand with his fingertip. 

“I’m not lying, technically. I felt it in the Force...left the students behind with some mentors and cleared the system to get here. You picked a base out in the middle of nowhere to land at, you know.” 

Leia rolls her eyes again at that, shifting Ben against her chest. “Right, next time we’re being attacked I’ll just pick the one with the most convenient location for you.” She watches her brother smile faintly before it begins to fade slightly, blue eyes studying her face carefully. 

“Who attacked you, anyway?” Leia feels her stomach leap up somewhere into her throat, trying her hardest to distract herself with Ben’s blanket. 

“No one,” she murmurs quietly, and she doesn’t have to look at her brother’s face to know what it looks like. 

“I don’t even know why you bother trying to lie to me, Leia.” His tone isn’t harsh or mean but more pitying than anything, and Leia tries her best to swallow down the lump in her throat but to no avail. “What happened yesterday?” 

_It_ _wasn’t just yesterday,_ Leia thinks desperately to herself. _I’ve known for months. They want my son. They want him so badly and I don’t know why._

“I don’t know.” It’s the truth; she doesn’t really have a definite answer. She doesn’t know who these men are or why they’re after Ben but truthfully, it’s the last thing she wants to discuss. Her baby is safe here, right now, wrapped in her arms and fast asleep on her chest. 

Luke doesn’t press on, staying quiet while Leia lifts her head and turns to look at him, holding his gaze for a few seconds. 

“Will you promise me something?” Leia watches her brother’s face contort slightly, eyebrows furrowing and his lips drawing down into a slight frown that wrinkles his skin. 

“Of course,” he replies quietly, and Leia realizes that Ben’s got a grip on his finger, his hand held up for his nephew to hold onto. 

“Take care of him; of Ben. Protect him for me.” Luke looks confused, tilting his head to the side and he opens his mouth to speak but Leia cuts him off before he can. 

“He’s still got me and Han. He’s never going to lose that, but...there’s things you can protect him from that we can’t.” The words feel heavy coming from her mouth and they are, but Luke seems to understand all the same. She’s being vague and she knows it, but it’s hard to orchestrate the words she’s trying to find. “The universe is big and bad and we just...we’re small.” 

She’s thankful Luke’s her brother, because Leia is sure no one else would’ve understood what she meant. She isn’t even quite sure what she means, but Luke holds her gaze intently for a moment before nodding slowly, face softening. 

“I promise, Leia.” 

On the other side of the parsec, at that same exact moment, a group of soldiers stand on a ship. Their helmets are dirty, battered and in need of upkeep but still they remain on their heads, faces covered and bodies paused in what feels like a defensive position. 

“Ben Solo is alive.” The statement from one of the soldiers gets no viable reaction, a few more moments’ silence filling the space before another speaks. 

“Good,” another one murmurs, voice low. “Give him time to grow. The pull towards the Dark is already growing within him; all we have to do is wait.” 

They are no strangers to waiting; the Knights of Ren have been waiting their entire lives for this. 

If they have to wait a bit longer...so be it. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> #LeaveBenSoloAlone2020
> 
> if you made it this far, thank you! i hope it wasn't too awful and you enjoyed it as much as i did writing it. 
> 
> as always, kudos and comments are much appreciated. tell me what you thought, even if you hated it! any sort of feedback is helpful to me.
> 
> will i be back soon? who knows. we'll see what TROS brings me in terms of ideas! :)


End file.
